Falling into You
by Spike Speigel1
Summary: Spike makes the ultimate sacrifice. But, what would you do with a second chance? Spike's about to find out.
1. Falling into You

Title:  Falling into You

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG (maybe PG-13 for foreshadowing)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Just what I've seen on the net for possible Big Bad this season.  Definitely OMWF and Tabula Rasa.

Summary:  Willow's gone bad and the only hope for the world is.. Spike?

Status:  Finished

Spike waited in the Summers living room, deeply inhaling a lungful of that horrible smoke that seemed to calm his nerves.  He was contemplating all that had transpired to get to this moment in time.  Amy perverting Willow's magic, making her thirst for even more power.  Thirsting for Dawn.  Luckily, that had been averted.  However, word had it that Willow was now making a play for more.  Apparently, Amy had "obtained" some sacred scrolls that opened up the hell portal without the aid of Dawn's blood.  All they needed now was to open the gate to hell and siphon the power.

Maybe it was the magic that changed Willow.  However, that was the last thing on his mind.  

_Buffy.  _

That name reverberating in his head.  

_Buffy._

The person that he'd changed his life for.

_Buffy._

Possibly his soul.

But she had used him.  Needed him to feel.  Spike exhaled finally, realizing that he held the smoke in longer than he should had.  After their run in with Sweet, they had kissed.  Not a spell saying, "Hey look, we're married," or a robot with the likeness of Buffy programmed to obey his every whim.  His Buffy.  His angel reincarnated.  Spike chuckled bitterly at this thought.

His angel.  Seemed appropriate.  After all, she had been pulled from Heaven by her friends.  Her greedy friends.  Her helpless friends.  They couldn't deal with the fact that she was gone.  He shook his head, taking another long drag at the cigarette nestled between his index and middle finger.  Was he really mad at them for dragging Buffy from her peace?  Or maybe he was hurt that they didn't include him.  Stupid wankers.  He would have stopped them if they had told him anyway.  He couldn't risk having something other than his Slayer coming back.  He couldn't risk losing her again.  He couldn't risk.

And now what was he being asked to do?  To stop Willow, he'd have to drink from her, feed from her, as the power was being siphoned from the gate.  However, there was a chance that his body wouldn't be able to contain the energy if Willow couldn't control the amount of energy she was gathering.  He knew one thing for certain; he didn't think he would be asked to feed on a human.  On one of their friends.  On a person they cared for more than they did him.  And what would he get in return?  The world's salvation.  He'd do it, only because he loved her, even though she couldn't return the sentiment.  As long as she's alive, my death will be worth it, he reasoned to himself.

A light illuminated the dark living room.  Spike turned around from the couch, hoping it wasn't her.  He didn't want to see her.  Not after their awkward separation.

_Stay away from me Slayer.  I'm sorry you feel like you're in hell, but I'm not your consolation prize.  I may not be living, but I know what I feel.  If you can't accept the fact that I love you unconditionally, we have nothing else to talk about, luv._

Those were his last words to her that cold March night in the cemetery.  He had turned and walked away from her, waiting for a plea, a statement, something from her.  But she remained silent as he walked away from her.  And that silence hurt him more than her fists ever did.

It was Dawn, a backpack slung over her shoulder, a weary look in her eye.  Guess she's heard the news too.  Spike put out the remnants of his cig on the heel of his boot and left the butt sitting on the coffee table.  He'd pick it up later.

"What are you doing here, Spike?  Why weren't you at the Magic Box?"  He didn't have to be.  He knew what was going on.  He was there earlier when Tara told him what needed to be done.  Tara.  Willow's soulmate.  This must hurt her the most.  Well, it had to seeing as how Buffy didn't even flinch when she heard what had to be done.  She just stared at him, no emotions behind those once warm brown eyes.  How he missed his Slayer quipping at him, harassing him, just like old times.  But times change.  People change.  People change.  Even vampires.

"Didn't have to be li'l bit.  I got the lowdown earlier from the witch and your sis.  I was waiting here for you."

"Me?"  She looked confused.  After hearing what had to be done, Dawn was almost certain Spike was there to see Buffy.  No matter what, Buffy was always on Spike's mind.  But he was here to see her.  Things must be bad.

"That's right, Dawn.  Sit down and let me give you your last lesson on life, as according to Spike."  He saw her flinch as the words came out of his mouth.  Last lesson.  Why not just say I'm gonna die, it's been fun.  Here's what you need to know.  Her eyes started to swell with tears.

"You don't think you're coming back, do you?"  She was sniffling, forcing the words out of her throat.  "You told Buffy and Tara that you could do it."

"I lied."  That was blunt.  Why couldn't he lose this bad boy persona for once and act as he truly felt.  There was a hopeless romantic in him.  There was a passionate...what?  Soul?  That couldn't be it.  He was a bloody vampire.  He couldn't feel.  Then why was he here?  Why?  He moved from the couch and knelt in front of his little niblet.  He tilted her chin so they were looking eye to eye.  "I just wanna do good by you and your sister is all."

"Then why are you doing this?"  Her sniffles had become sobs.  "Why are you leaving me?  Leaving Buffy?  Why?!?"  Her fists began to pound upon his chest.  Spike held her shoulders, allowing his Dawnie to vent her grief, her frustration.  Once the storm subsided, Spike looked at her once again, noting the sound in the kitchen but paying it no mind.

"Niblet, if I don't do this, Willow's gonna do something that she can never come back from.  Trust me, I know."  His voice began to waver, but he maintained his composure.  And to think, a few years ago, he would have most likely never been in this situation.  Instead, he would most likely be with Dru, doing whatever made her happy.  But he was here now.  And he was going to make the most of his remaining time here.  "I've done things I can't take back, Dawnie.  I've hurt, I've killed, Dawn.  I've.."

"But you're good now.  I don't care what you did before.  Just don't leave me."  Her pleas became louder as more tears came.  He smiled sadly at this.

"If only I'd met you earlier, li'l bit.  Maybe you coulda showed me the errors of me ways."  She faintly smiled at this, but sadness was definitely evident in her eyes.  "But if I don't do this, I'd be failing you and your sister again."

"Why don't you love her anymore?"  Spike felt naked at this question.  Where did this come from?  "Is this why you're throwing your life away?  Is this why you're leaving us alone?"  Spike wanted to hug her, his honest, kindhearted Dawnie.  Buffy may have been the Summers that brought out the best in him, but Dawn was the one that always cared for him.  Well, at least showed him that she cared.  He couldn't blame Buffy, after all.  She had her own demons to battle without putting up with him.

"I do love her, Dawnie.  More than she'll ever know.  But you already know that, don't you.  I love you too, li'l bit.  That's why I'm here.  To say me goodbyes in case things don't work out the way we think they should."  Spike moved his hand to his coat pocket, fishing out what he wanted to leave to his Dawn.  "I want you to keep this for safekeeping until I get back, okay?"  He placed his hand palm down over Dawn's, gently dropping the object into hers.

"A pocket mirror?"  Dawn was puzzled.  Spike smirked his bad boy smile.

"I'm gonna tell you a secret.  Something I've never told anyone else."  He instinctively took a deep breath that he didn't need.  First telling Buffy that he loved her.  Now revealing a personal part of himself to Dawn.  The Summers' women certainly had a hold on him, didn't they?  "I used to look at this everyday the first time I was turned into...well, you know."

"Why?"  Apparently, the confusion had stilled her tears for the time being.

"At first, I didn't believe that I was dead.  I didn't want to believe."  He gently lifted Dawn's hand to her face, mirror facing her.  "So, I'd look every day, hoping against hope that I'd be able to see myself.  After about twenty or so years, I stopped looking."  Dawn seemed to realize what Spike was trying to tell her, even if he couldn't come right out and say it.  Another sound from the kitchen.  What was that.  Sobbing?  Probably the flux of emotions playing tricks on him.  "Anyway, I kept it.  Even though I pretty much gave up and gave into being a mean ol' vamp, I always had that little glimmer of hope that I'd be able to see me reflection in it.  One day."  His hand gently caressed her cheek.  Even with the chip in his head, he was sure, in this one moment in time, what he had said had come from him.  "So, I need you to keep this safe for me until I come back.  Can you do that for me?"  Dawn nodded slowly, a half smile playing across her sad face.

"Have you looked recently?"

"What do you mean?"  Dawn motioned to the sliver reflective glass in her hand.  "Oh.  No, I haven't, li'l bit.  I've accepted what I am now.  But it's kinda a good luck charm, I guess that's why I keep it."  A smile now emerged on Dawn's face.  What exactly was she thinking?

"Well, we'll check when you come back then.  Once you stop the big baddie, even though it's Willow.  We'll check, you and me.  I'm sure you'll be in there after all this."  She was so honest, it made Spike hurt.  Even though his heart no longer functioned, it felt as if it was tearing itself apart in his chest.

"It's a promise, niblet."  Dawn hugged him, her arms most likely squeezing the life out of him if it wasn't already gone.  "Now, you should go to bed before the big bad Buff catches you up this late."  A smile, a giggle, and she was up the stairs.  Her hands clutching at his pocket mirror as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.  Then he heard it again, only this time louder.  It was crying.  But Dawnie was upstairs and not crying.  He turned around, now noticing that the kitchen light was on.  He moved slowly into the kitchen, noting that there was indeed someone else in the house.  "Buffy?"

She was crying from the look of things.  Had been crying for a while based on the look in her eyes as she looked up at him from the kitchen table.  "Spike?"

It hurt him seeing her like this.  Knowing that she was in pain.  He'd do anything to help her, even initially comfort her physically.  But he knew that she would never love him.  Not like she did Angel.  That stupid poof.  What did he have that he didn't.  A bloody soul?  He didn't need a soul to be good, to love the woman in front of him.  She was his soul.  "Luv, what's wrong?"  He moved to the chair next to her, pulling it closer to her side and sitting beside her.  And then, the unexpected happened.  Buffy's hand grabbed his and closed tightly, squeezing it for all dear life.

"Don't leave me."  At first he thought that she wanted him for comfort as she did earlier in the year.  To make her feel once again.  However, looking into her eyes, he could tell things were different.  There was nothing but sadness and grief behind those eyes.  She was feeling without him.  Because of him?

"What, Slayer?"

"Don't leave me.  Not now.  Not after all we've been through."

"And what exactly was that, luv?  Sex?"  He didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't want his angel to want him.  He wanted her to love him.  It seemed that his little observation knocked her out of her depression.  She seemed angry now.  That was never good.

"Like what you and that bitch were doing behind my back?"  Addressing of course his old flame after things self destructed between he and Buffy.  But it didn't last.  He would love his Buffy now and always, even though she kept on hurting him.

"I don't need this, Slayer.  I came here to talk to Dawn and I did that.  See ya around, luv."  Spike pulled himself from Buffy's grasp and began to move toward the kitchen door.

"I heard what you told Dawnie."  Spike wondered if she had heard the whole conversation.  Was that why she was like this now?

"Eavesdropping now?  Isn't that beneath you, Slayer?"  He loved her so much but he couldn't explain why he kept on hurting her.  Life would be so much simpler if he'd never met his angel.  But he wouldn't be on the road to redemption if he hadn't.

"Spike, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to lash out at you."  Regret?  Now that was odd for Spike.  "You've always been here for Dawnie and me.  It'd kill her if you don't come back."

"Well, someone's gotta save the world, right?  And, to tell you the truth, I'm sick and tired of you always hogging the spotlight.  Cor, woman, you've died not once, but twice."  A quirky Buffy giggle was the result.  It made Spike feel good making her laugh.

"Well, so have you."

"Yeah, but I didn't save the world, now did I.  I ended up hurting it a bit."  Buffy got up from the table and walked over to Spike, standing in front of him, not even six inches away, looking into his deep blue eyes.

"You've protected Dawn, even when you didn't have to."  Her hand had once again found its way around his, dangling between the two of them.  "And you've saved me."

"What?"  Spike didn't know what she meant.  She pulled their tangled hands to her chest, holding it over her heart.

"I thought I was in hell when I came back.  When Willow..."  She began to lose focus and Spike was sure that she would fall back into her depression.  However, Buffy composed herself and began to speak again.  "You were the only one I could tell.  Because I thought you'd know how to make it all better.  You always protected Dawn, and I guess I wanted you to protect me as well.  To make everything better."  Spike's free hand moved slowly to her chin, gently lifting it so he could see into his Buffy's eyes.  She was being so sincere.  This was something he was not used to.  Usually there would be a good arse kicking, then the lesson.  But this was completely new to him.  She was letting him in.

"Buffy, you don't have to thank me.  I'll always be here for you, even if you don't want me."  No laughter this time.  Her gaze never wavered.  She just moved closer to him, her head resting on his chest, their hands pressed between them.

"Don't do it.  We'll find another way to stop Willow and Amy."  No tears this time, just sadness and.. what?  What else was there?  Spike instinctively wrapped his free arm around his Buffy, his lips in her hair.

"There's no other choice, luv.  It's me or you.  And it's not gonna be you."  He squeezed her tighter, his voice now a whisper.  "I lost you once.  I'm not losing you again."  Spike felt Buffy pressing harder against his chest, trying to get closer to him even though it was physically impossible.

"I don't want to die again, Spike.  I really don't.  But if it means losing you..."  She began to trail off.

"What are you trying to say, luv?"  Spike continued whispering into her hair, just enjoying the feeling of being here with her, not contemplating tomorrow.

"I..I..I.."  Spike gently began to rub his hand along her back, soothingly.  He knew what she wanted to say and that was good enough for him.

"Doesn't matter, Buffy.  I have to do this."  He felt his shirt becoming moist.  She was crying again.  She was crying because of him.  "But, Tara said there's a chance that I can survive the process."

"A small chance," Buffy sniffled into his chest.

"Well, that's more than I'll ever need.  After all, I promised Dawnie I'd come back.  Don't want to become a liar to my li'l bit."  Buffy slowly pulled away from Spike, her presence leaving his embrace made him feel empty inside.  Before he could speak again, her lips were on his.  Her hand gently caressing his cheek.  Spike instinctively kissed back, missing this feeling so desperately.  However, this kiss was different.  It wasn't wanting.  It wasn't desperation.  She moaned gently into his mouth, Spike's hand gently moving through her hair.  Her lips so soft, so gentle against his.  He was falling into her.  He was losing himself in her.  He loved her.  And from this kiss, he finally knew how she felt.  She loved him.

Their lips parted, partly because Buffy needed to breathe, and partly because she wanted to look at the man that had changed her life for the better after her terrible ordeal.  The man that hadn't given up on her even though she continually pushed him away.  And why?  Because she wouldn't let herself love him?  Love a monster?  But that wasn't true.  He didn't have a soul, but he didn't need one.  He loved her even though he didn't have one.  He loved her because she made him a better person.  He loved her.  And that was enough for her as she looked into her man's eyes, those deep blue pools.  

"Buffy.."  Her fingers rested on his lips, stopping his speech.

"Promise me one thing?"  She looked at him, her head tilting closer to his, their noses basically touching.

"Anything for you, luv.  You know that."

"Come back to me after you stop Willow.  Promise me you'll come back."  He couldn't lie to her.  Not now.  Hadn't for a long while now.  And he honestly believed himself now.

"I will.  For Dawnie and for you."  This time it was Spike initiating the kiss.  Half expecting Buffy to pull away, he was surprised to feel her arms moving around the base of his neck.  She pulled him closer, their mouths moving without abandon.  This was not the desperate kiss they had shared at the Bronze.  However, it was the most passionate thing he had ever felt in his life.  He felt alive, even though he knew he wasn't.  He felt alive because Buffy was living for the both of them.  His Buffy.  His angel.

To be continued 


	2. Who Dares, Wins

Title:  Who Dares, Wins

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  R (Violence and angst.  Hide the kiddies.)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.

Summary:  Continuation of "Falling into You."  A public service for Robyn.  Go read "Falling into You" or you're not gonna have any idea what I'm rambling about here.  Go, now.  You're still here?  Fine, whatever.  Not like I'm your dad anyway.

Status:  Finished (Part II of ?)

He relished her lips on his, her arms around his neck, her.  He missed her so much that he wanted to make up for lost time.  He wanted to stop time at this moment so they could have eternity together.  But he knew better.  The end of the race was in view now.  He could feel it in every fiber of his being.  Even though he and his angel had reunited, sadness was sure to follow.

Her hands were now in his hair, his on her hips.  Spike would be content to stay with Buffy, to run away, to avoid what had to be done, to be with the woman in front of him.  But he couldn't.  He would see this through to the end, no matter the consequences.

"Hey, Buff.  We're here.  Where's… whoops."  It was Xander, Anya following up the rear.  Talk about a mood killer, this was it.  Buffy and Spike reluctantly separated from their embrace, Buffy turning to the group that had just entered.  Why didn't people knock anymore?

"Oh, you guys are back together.  How sweet.  Do you need us to leave so you can have sex now?"  Leave it to Anya to be as blunt as possible.

"Uh, no.  It's okay.  What's wrong?"  Buffy's hand remained encircled around Spike's, not wanting to let go.  However, it was Spike that broke the hold, feeling uncomfortable showing emotion in front of the others.  He leaned his back up against the wall, his fingers fishing out another cig from his breast pocket.  He remained quiet, listening intently on what the others were saying.

"Tara needs to talk to Spike.  She found something in the translation."  Spike took a quick drag, then spoke.

"So, why ain't she here to tell me, Harris?"  Anya looked troubled now, Xander shaking his head as though he was trying to find an answer to a question he hadn't expected.

"She's at the Magic Box.  She wants to make sure she's translating the prophecy correctly before she breaks the news."

"Alone?  You stupid git.  She's the only one that knows what we have to do to stop Willow."  Buffy's hand gently squeezed Spike's forearm, instinctively trying to calm him down.  It was still a weird feeling, having his Slayer showing emotion for him once again.

"No, it's okay.  Really.  She's not alone."  Anya was now speaking, her arms crossed across her chest.  "Giles is with her.  But he can't have the Magic Box back."  Xander gave her a "this isn't the right time" look, but she didn't notice.  "After all, a shopkeeper can only take so much stress over management of the store."

"Giles is here?"  Buffy sounded concerned now.

"Yeah.  Tara thought it was best to have Giles help her with the translation."  Xander had now pulled up a chair, sitting across from the vampire.  He still felt uncomfortable around Spike, but given the fact that Spike was humanity's salvation, he'd give him the benefit of the doubt today.

"So, what's so bloody important that the Watcher needs to be here?  What aren't you telling us, Harris?"  Spike was also concerned that Giles was back.  After all, he had left Sunnydale to let Buffy grow up on her own, to make decisions on her own.  Now, with his reappearance, that could only mean trouble around the bend.  Xander looked concerned at the question, Anya's hands now on his shoulders, trying to comfort him.  Xander looked at the vampire, about to speak.  That was until they heard the crash.

"Bloody hell?"  Buffy moved toward the living room, the rest following.  Another loud sound, followed by screams.  "Dawnie."  Spike flew up the steps, Buffy right on his heels.  The door was locked.  Dawn never locked the door.  Spike's foot came down hard on the door, the hinges breaking away from the frame.  He moved into her room to see a group of men pulling Dawn out of the bedroom window.

"Buffy!  Spike!"  A sheet was thrown over her as one of the men jumped down from the window to the ground.  The other followed.

"Dawn!"  Buffy ran to the window, Spike right behind her.  Xander and Anya had now made it up the stairs.  The sight was one that would make Spike's blood turn cold if it wasn't already.

"Hello, lover."

"Dru."  Spike's first love, if you could call it love.  His sire.  The one that had turned him to the world of darkness.  The one that had ultimately damned him.  She was surrounded by men and vampires.  What an odd combination.  But then again, nothing was normal with Drusilla.  Buffy, teeming with rage, leapt out of the window to get her sister back.  Spike followed.

"Give her back, you hellbitch.  It's okay Dawn.  Everything's going to be okay."  Buffy moved forward toward the group of henchmen.  The mob began to condense in front of Drusilla, a union of man and demon.  Drusilla violently pulled away the sheet from Dawn's person, her arm around her chest, her finger hovering over her throat.

"Careful, luv.  One more step and little sister will be watering the lawn with blood."  Buffy stood deadly still, Spike clenching his fists.

"Buffy?"  Tears were now evident on Dawn's face.  Spike hated this.  Why Dawn?  _Oh, no_.

"This is Willow's handiwork, innit pet?"  A wicked yet relaxed smile played across Drusilla's face.  Buffy's face turned to one of shock as she heard Spike's proclamation and saw the nonverbal response from Drusilla.

"You were always a smart one, William."  The door opened behind the two star crossed lovers, Xander and Anya now joining the fray.  Drusilla began to trace her finger along Dawn's cheek, her skin deflecting from the force Drusilla was placing on her face.

"But Willow doesn't need Dawn's blood to open the gate.  Why does she want her then?"  Buffy's voice wavered.  Spike can only imagine the emotional turmoil the Slayer was going through at this moment.  Her best friend, now her enemy.

"A sacrifice.  And what better sacrifice than the Key?"

"Willow would never do that."  Xander didn't want to believe what he had just heard.  Their innocent, bookish Willow.  She would never do something like this.  Never.

"Don't make a difference what you believe, luv.  This little girl is gonna bring on the end of the world."  There was a slight uplift in her voice as she reached the end, as if she was a child pleasantly surprised at Christmas upon opening her presents.

"What's your play, Dru?  How do you fit in all of this?"  Spike still couldn't put together the pieces.  What did a power hungry Wicca and a telepathic vampire have in common?

"Haven't you figured it out, luv?"  It made Spike uneasy, hearing that word coming from Drusilla.  He wasn't her anything anymore.  "I'm here for you."

"What do you want with him?"  Buffy had now moved closer to Spike, as though she was instinctively protecting him.  How things had changed.  His lover, his killer.  His killer, his lover.

"I want to see him suffer, just as I did when he rejected me for you!"  Drusilla's nail slashed across Dawn's cheek, blood dripping freely from the gash.  She lifted her finger to her mouth, savoring the blood.  Her demeanor had now relaxed as she composed herself.  "Anyway."  A lucid smile now appeared.  "I like the quiet."

"You heartless hooer."  Spike's rage was beginning to get the best of him, his dark side now evident on his face.  Buffy's hand gently held him back to prevent any further danger to her sister.

"You're one to talk, luv.  You don't have a heart.  You're as bad as I am."  Drusilla's fingers now clamped around Dawn's throat, forcing an inaudible gasp.  "No, you're worse than I am.  You're still one up in Slayer elimination."  Spike's head slowly dropped.  His dark past flooding back into his conscious.  She was right.  He was no better than her.  But it didn't matter now.  Dawn was the only thing that mattered.  "I tire of talking."  

A quick nod of her head and the horde descended upon them.  Drusilla casually walked toward the waiting car, the driver opening the door for her.  Buffy and Spike began to work their way through the mob, Spike being careful not to inflict his wrath on any humans.  Xander and Anya joined in.  While the pack was easily enough to dispatch, they had served their purpose.  Drusilla was gone, and Dawn with her.

Amy watched as Willow chanted the spell from the scroll.  Waves of red energy swirled around her body, just like when she had brought Buffy back from the dead.  However, this time, instead of feeling pain from the incantation, she relished every moment.  The power was the only thing that made her feel.  First it was Tara's hindrance.  Then it was Buffy's ultimatum.  One by one, her friends had deserted her.  But not Amy.  Amy had opened her eyes.  Had allowed her to gain comfort in her ability.  To not be ashamed of her gifts.  And now Amy was here to help her gain what she never did from her former friends.  Power.  Pure and absolute.

Amy's gaze fell back upon the text in her hands as Willow continued to chant as though this was an everyday occurrence.  Indeed, it was for these two.  She continued to read the passage in the text as Willow's voice hovered in the background.

"Minuo superfluo.  Patefacio porta.  Effringo!  Effringo!"  A bolt of yellow light shot through Willow's body, throwing her back against the apartment wall.  A crackle of static electricity through the air and all was silent.

"Almost there, Willow.  You handled the impact better this time."  Willow gingerly lifted herself off the ground and made her way to Amy, still sitting on the couch.

"I know, Amy.  I can feel it."  She sat next to Amy, her legs up on the couch.  If a stranger were to look in on the two, they would think two girlfriends chatting about the usual girl stuff.  Boys, school.  Not the end of the world.  "I can feel my body adjusting to the power.  It feels all tingly, but a good tingly."

"Are you sure about Drusilla, though?  Can we trust her?"  Amy was beginning to have doubts about their alliance with the vampire.  Willow nodded her head, a gentle smile emerging on her face.

"Sure we can, Amy.  She wants Spike. We need Dawn.  It's a win-win situation."  Willow began to rub her shoulder, trying to ease the tension in her body after her ordeal.  "Anyway, we need Buffy and the others to stay out of our way.  We can't have them interfering."  A hint of sorrow in her voice.  She still cared for them.  But she was convinced that they didn't care for her anymore.  That's why she had to do this.  To prove to them that she was right.  That she could handle the power.  That she was important.

"So, where do we meet up with Drusilla?  To get Dawn."  Amy had not moved her gaze from the text while talking to Willow.

"When we find out where we open the portal, I'll call her and tell her to meet us there."  Based on their research, they could no longer open the gate that Buffy had sealed.  Once a gate was sealed by the Key's blood, it was sealed forever.  Therefore, the search for a new gate had been of the utmost importance.

"Oohhh."  Amy's gaze had now moved to Willow.

"What is it?"  Amy moved the ancient text closer to Willow, both gazing down on the pages.

"How's this for irony?"  Willow's eyes opened widely as she saw what Amy wanted her to.

"Oh, that's pretty ironic.  Kinda fitting too since dead people live there."  Willow smiled at herself for her clever play on words, congratulating herself.

The group had gathered at the Magic Box to figure out their next move.  Giles saw the look on their faces as they trotted through the door.  Something had gone wrong.

"What is it, Buffy?"

"Dawn."  That was all she had to say.  They had been here before.  Glory.  She needed Dawn to open the gate so she could return home.  This time, things were different.  Dawn was still needed to open the gate, but this time the threat was Willow.  No matter how odd it sounded, it was real nonetheless.

"Oh, God.  Did Willow hurt her?"  Tara's voice was tinged with panic.  Her Willow tree.  How had things gone this bad this fast?

"Wasn't Willow.  Dru."  That name again.  Drusilla.  How he hated that name now.  And to think there was a time he would have died for that woman.

"How does Drusilla factor into this?"  Giles was honestly confused at this point.  Drusilla and Willow in the same sentence was as different as night and day.

"She's working for Willow."  Xander; her best friend.  He still couldn't believe it.  Willow.  Kindhearted Willow.  Sweet Willow.  Honest Willow.  He slumped into a chair, a loud groan of frustration passing between his lips.

"I was afraid this would happen.  I should have stopped that stupid girl before…"  Giles couldn't finish his statement.  Instead, he removed his spectacles and cleaned them with his shirttail as he often did when he didn't want to see or think about something.

"Look, no one's at fault here."  Buffy began to speak, noting that someone had to alleviate the dire situation now growing out of control.  "We all have had our personal struggles this year."  She immediately thought about her burgeoning relationship with the vampire by her side.  The road to this point had been a tumultuous one.  First denying her feelings for him.  Then admitting them.  Then ultimately pushing him away for fear of rejection again.  But they were here together in this moment in time.  And they'd be together for as long as it would last.  For as long as they would last.  "Willow had the choice to stop, but she couldn't.  Now we have to stop her before she does something she regrets."

"Think she already did, pet."  Spike was thinking of Dawn.  His pigeon.  If anything happened to her, he would die.  He was already dead, but for the first time in his life, he felt alive being with the Summers' women.  He couldn't risk losing them.  Not now.  "Willow and Dru a good match they do not make, luv."  Buffy nodded in agreement.  Uncontrolled power and undeniable evil.  That was never a good combination.

"So, what do we do?  Go from door to door asking people if they've seen a redheaded, black-eyed witch with a rat gal and a vampire telepath toting around the key to opening the gates of hell?"  Anya was still unaccustomed to these situations.  She may have been born a demon, but she had grown to care for the individuals in front of her now.  And the man sitting in front of her.  Xander.  The one that had changed her life for the better.  She loved him.  This much was true.  But she was still unfamiliar with how to deal with these tense human moments.

"No, I don't think that would be a prudent course of actions, Anya.  But at least it's an idea."  Giles moved toward the stack of books, grabbing what seemed to be the thickest, dustiest volume.  "I think it best to figure out what Willow is planning.  Does anyone know why they took Dawn?"

"She's gonna sacrifice the bit."  Spike felt Buffy standing close to his side, their arms touching.  He couldn't stand the thought of Buffy in pain.  "You figure out what she's gonna do, I'm gonna look for her."  He moved away from Buffy, making his way to the door.

"Wait, Spike.  We need you here…"

"To what?  To bury me bloody nose in a book?  She's out there right now with Dru.  Anything happens to the li'l bit and…"  He felt Buffy's hand on his shoulder, his body beginning to shake with fear and anger.

"Giles, Spike and I are going to stop off at Spike's to pick up some supplies and go look for Dawn.  You guys try and figure out where they could be taking her."

"Alright, Buff."  Xander picked up a book from the table and flipped it open.  "You take care of her, Spike."  He sounded sincere.  Spike responded in kind.

"Always will, Harris."

"What's wrong, Spike?"  He had been eerily quiet ever since they left the Magic Box.

"Hmm, what's that, luv?"  He was deep in thought and had not heard the question.  In fact, he wasn't sure how they'd gotten all the way to the cemetery, but here they were.

"You're worried about Dawn, aren't you?"  A half smile played across his face.

"That obvious, innit?"  Her hand gently squeezed his as they kept on walking.  Her heart was breaking for him.  He may be a creature of the dark, but he was the one that made her a better person.  Her and Dawn.

"We'll find her.  I know we will."

"Well, first things first.  Gotta get the gear and then we go roaming for Dru."  He felt better, knowing that he wasn't the only one feeling this way.  He missed his niblet and would do anything to get her back.  As they stood in the moonlit cemetery, a noise from behind them startled the two.

"No reason for that, lover."  Drusilla stood in front of the duo, Dawn still within her grasp.

"Well, gotta thank you for that, luv.  More energy for me to kill ya with."  Spike flew from Buffy's side, but was halted by a bolt of blue energy.  He flew back toward a tombstone, the force of his momentum shattering it.  Buffy ran to his side, helping him up to his feet.

"What was that?"  Buffy looked around for the source of the energy.  Her eyes fell upon the last thing she wanted to see at this moment.

"Buffy.  I was hoping to run into you.  Time for you to see how powerful I really am."  Amy and Willow were standing together, a slight smile on Willow's lips.

"Oh, look.  The family's all here."  Drusilla began to laugh at the moon, vampires emerging from behind her making their way toward Buffy and Spike.

"Oh, God."  Giles slid his spectacles onto his face to closely examine the text.  He wanted to be sure that it was correct.  He prayed that it was wrong.  But upon further inspection, his prayers went unanswered.

"What is it Giles?"  Tara looked up from her notes, as did Xander and Anya.

"Buffy and Spike are in grave danger."  The Watcher grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and moved toward the weapons cabinet.  He grabbed an axe and tossed it to Xander.  Anya picked up a crossbow as Giles removed a blade looking something like a scimitar.  "Grab your notes, Tara.  We have to get there before it's too late."

"Where are we going?"  Anya sounded more annoyed than afraid.  "Should I lock the store so no one comes in and steals anything?"

"Not now, honey."  Xander and Anya followed Giles out of the store.  Tara picked up her notes, feeling fairly secure in her confidence to cast the spell.  As she looked down at her notes, she saw what Giles was reading.  Giles knew where the portal was going to be.  As would Buffy and Spike if it wasn't already too late.

"Dawn, are you okay?"  Buffy saw that Dawn had been crying for a while, her eyes red and swollen from the tears.

"I'm okay, Buffy."  Her cheek was now stained with blood from Drusilla's mark.  Spike looked at the two Wiccans, arm in arm, enjoying the scene as if they were watching a tense nail biter at the local Cineplex.

"Don't worry, niblet.  Your sister and I are gonna get you out of here."  She weakly smiled at Spike even though this was not a time for joy.

"You promise?"  Spike nodded his head and winked at his li'l bit.

"Promise, bit."

"Ohhhh, that's so sweet."  Drusilla's grip around Dawn's neck increased, Dawn's face shuddering in pain.  "So disgustingly sweet."  Her relaxed smile returned to her face.  "I don't know what I ever saw in you, lover."

"That makes two of us."  The vampire horde began to move in on Buffy and Spike.  A quick glance over to Buffy, and they knew what needed to be done.  They moved toward the center of the mob, their fists and feet flying.  The mob would have surely overpowered any other two people in the world, but not Buffy and Spike.  They had too much on the line to give up.  They'd never give up on Dawn, no matter the consequences.

"Look, there they are."  Anya pointed toward Spike's crypt.  Out in the distance, they could definitely see some type of activity going on.

"We're not late then."  Giles hurried toward the melee now in progress.  "You know your part, Tara?"  Tara was panting hard as they ran toward their friends, but answered nonetheless.

"Yeah…have to…wait…for Spike."  Giles nodded, his face now deadly serious.  He had wished this day would never come.  That he wouldn't have to act on his words to Willow when he came back to Sunnydale.  When he found out that Buffy was brought back from the dead.  He couldn't stop her then.  But he'd stop her now.

"Luv, behind you!"  Buffy ducked out of the way in time to avoid a knife to her back.  Buffy kicked the vamp away, his body flying into the air, falling down onto two other vampires.  _God, we need stakes.  We can't bloody well hold them off forever._  A vampire rushed Spike, but Spike was faster.  He moved out of the way, his hands wrapping around the vamp's neck.  A swift twist and he heard cartilage and bone snapping.  Spike let go once he heard the sound, the lifeless body tumbling to the ground.

Buffy looked over to Dawn, seeing that Willow and Amy were now standing with Drusilla.  Buffy hated her friend now more than ever.  How could she have done this?  Why was she fighting against her once best friend?  They should be sitting on the sofa, talking about how their day went.  Not this.  Not this.

"Why are you doing this Willow?"  Dawn's tears had subsided, only because she physically couldn't anymore.  "It's not too late, Willow."  Drusilla twisted Dawn's arm behind her back, making her scream out in pain.

"Shut up, you little brat.  Grown ups are talking."  Willow looked at Dawn, a troubled look in her eyes.  But whatever she was thinking about had quickly subsided.

"It was too late a long time ago, Dawnie."  She gently caressed Dawn's blood stained cheek.  "Sorry, Dawnie."  She turned away, moving toward Amy.  Amy had a look as though she was very excited.  Then again, a boost in magic was always something to be excited about.  She and Willow would have the world in the palm of their hands.  The world was about to be theirs.  Nothing could stop them now.

Buffy looked back towards Spike to see if he was okay.  He was fighting with a ferocity that she had never seen before.  Even when they were enemies, she had never seen such a rage in him.  Bodies were flying left and right, Spike's demeanor never wavering.  He was intent on saving her sister.  Unfortunately, he didn't see the one vampire behind him.  "Spike!"  

He turned around to see the mace swing into his stomach.  He dropped in pain, the vamp readying an overhead blow.  Spike, still wincing from the pain, could only watch as the mace came down again.  Then, the vampire exploded into a cloud of dust.  He looked off to the distance to see what had saved him from a sodding headache.  "Giles."  

"Glad to see we're not late."  He tossed Spike a stake while Xander and Anya aided Buffy.

"Welcome to the party, Rupert.  There's plenty to go around."  Giles smiled at this.  Even in these dire straits, Spike was the only one to keep a level head.

"You ready to end this?"

"You just cover me.  I'm making a run for the bit."  A nod in agreement.

"Good luck, Spike."  Giles sheathed his sword and lifted the crossbow on high.  He wouldn't miss.

Buffy looked over to Spike and Giles, seeing the two conversing.  Now armed, the vampire horde was less menacing now.  She impaled two with a broadsword in one swift blow.  They may be violent, but they weren't that smart.  Xander and Anya were holding their own with a few of the vamps while Tara sat down a further way down, readying herself if Willow was successful in opening the gate.  Buffy shook the thought out of her head.  For Willow to be successful, Dawn would have to die.  She died once to prevent that tragic event.  She was ready to do so again, even if it meant taking Willow with her.

She looked back to the position where Spike and Giles were.  Spike began to run towards Dawn and the others, a look of determination on his face.  She had never seen him act more heroic than this moment.  She knew for certain this was the person she was going to spend the rest of her life with.  A hand came down on her shoulder, pulling her backward.  Buffy flipped the figure forward, her sword coming down across the vamp's head.

Spike continued to close the distance between he and Dawn, vampires disintegrating to the left and right of him.  He had to hand it to the Watcher; he knew how to handle the crossbow.  As he got closer, that's when the light show started.  Amy was hurling waves of fluorescent energy toward him.  If it wasn't for his quick reflexes, he'd most likely be dead.  Well, more dead, he thought to himself.  Amy looked vexed as she tried to connect with her magic.  Drusilla still held Dawn close to her, while Willow began chanting.  Her voice sounded otherworldly, the magics now in control of her body.

"Minuo superfluo."  The red swirls of energy began to surround Willow's body.

"Patefacio porta."  The clouds were beginning to swirl in the sky.  Spike closed in on Amy's position, as she angrily continued to knock him out of commission.  He needed a distraction to get closer to her.  

As if Giles read his mind, an arrow connected with Amy's shoulder.  _Thanks, Watcher.  I owe ya one._  Spike seized the moment and lunged toward the now startled Amy.  His arm wrapped around her neck, his other holding her hands securely behind her body.  "Can't have ya casting any bad magic, luv.  You're my bargaining chip for Dawn."  Willow continued unabated with her chanting.  Drusilla stood in front of Spike, Dawn now mimicking Amy in her grasp.

"What now, lover?"  Drusilla was relishing the moment.  Her relaxed smile was now one of giddy excitement.  "Looks like we have a standoff."

"Looks like."  Spike's arm constricted around Amy's neck, his whole being fighting the monster inside him, the part of him that wanted to snap her neck like a twig.  He couldn't risk losing himself.  Not now.  He'd do what he had failed to do a year ago.  He'd save Dawn this time.  "Willow!  Just give me Dawn and you can have me!"  He was yelling over the loud energy crackling throughout the surrounding air.  "You hear me, luv!  I'll be your goddamned sacrifice!"  No response.  She was still mumbling, chanting under her breath.  Time to get her attention.  His hand bent one of Amy's arms upward, the snap of bone audible to those in the immediate vicinity.  If that didn't get Willow's attention, Amy's scream of pain would.

Willow turned her gaze to the situation not even six feet away from her.  However, it was no longer Willow.  Spike could see that the powers she was attempting to harness had gotten control of her.  Her eyes were pitch black, her voice sounding as if it was out of sync of reality.  A wave of her hand and a stream of black energy flowed quickly to Spike and Amy.  "Be quiet!"

Spike wasn't fast enough to move out of the way.  The black energy surrounded Amy, her body writhing in pain.  Spike was thrown back, his arm burning as if the sun itself had affected it.  He quickly threw off his coat, noting that the energy acted like fire.  He stomped it out on the grass, his coat now discoloring at the point of impact.  His arm was still in pain, the skin on his forearm bubbling, expanding, from the energy.  He looked back to Amy, her yells audible to the whole cemetery.

Buffy and the rest had taken care of the vampire minions and were regrouping when they heard Amy's screams of pain.  The sight made them sick to their stomachs.  Layer by layer, Amy's flesh began to peel away from her body, her body still writhing away.  While the energy was black, the group could see clearly into the ether.

"My God."  Xander was in shock as he saw Willow's hand pointed toward the carnage.  Buffy looked over and saw Spike working to get his coat off.

"That's not Willow," Anya stated matter of factly.  "Her eyes are different."

"There's still a chance that Spike can save Dawn."  The words had come from Xander.  Had things become so bleak that Xander was actually depending on the vampire?  Buffy looked back at Spike, standing alone in front of Drusilla and impending doom.  She had to be at his side.

"Xander, I'm going to help Spike.  Signal to Tara if things…"  She didn't want to finish the thought.  Xander nodded agreement, knowing what she meant.  She ran toward the scene, determined to stop Willow at all costs.

Spike rose from the ground, gingerly grabbing his forearm.  The pain shot all through his body, but he had a job to finish.  Just then, another arrow whizzed over his head, towards Willow.  The arrow vaporized in the energy storm now around Willow, if that was still her.  No choice now.  _Have to save Dawn.  Nothin' else matters._

"Dru!"  The anger was now back in his voice.  "Let her go!"  He moved slowly toward her, the pain hindering his pace.  She was giggling like a little schoolgirl now.

"Oh, look at the bones."  She was looking at Amy's remains.  "That was fun, lover."

"Don't call me that!"  There was only one person that held claim to his heart now.  Buffy.

"What?  Lover, lover?"  Dawn was now trembling, the situation growing darker.

"Effringo!"  Willow's arms pointed toward the heavens.  "Effringo!"  Energy shot down from the heavens, engulfing Willow's body.  She turned back to Spike and Drusilla.  All Drusilla could do was smile.

"Sorry, lover."  Her hand released Dawn's throat, a look of relief quickly moving over both Spike's and Dawn's faces.  Then the unthinkable.  "You lose."  Drusilla's hand moved quickly across Dawn's throat, blood spurting from her jugular.  Dawn's hands automatically went to her throat, trying to stop the blood.  Spike's mouth dropped open, trying to scream, to yell, but no words came.  Dawn dropped to her knees, Spike moving over to his fallen pigeon.

"Noooooo!!!!"  Spike cradled Dawn's shivering body in his lap and arms, looking to the source of the declaration.  It was Buffy, her arm in front of her as if that would get her to Dawn faster.  He turned back to Dawn, rocking her in his arms.

"It's okay, pigeon.  Everything's gonna be okay.  Just lay still."  Spike hadn't noticed that his eyes were now swelling with tears.  Dawn looked up at him, trying to vocalize something but physically couldn't.

"Goodbye, lover."  Drusilla began walking off in the distance.  Spike wanted to go after her, end her life.  But he couldn't.  His li'l bit was draining away in his arms.  He could hear Drusilla's lilted voice singing a hymn as she disappeared into the darkness.

"Dawn?"  She was motionless now, the gasps of air getting shorter.  "Dawnie?"  Her body remained still in his arms, her eyes looking up at him, those kind eyes.  Spike slowly moved his hand over her eyes, closing them forever.  His head bent over her fragile body, the tears freely pouring now, falling onto her face.

"Dawnie?"  Buffy finally made it to their location.  Spike's body uncontrollably shook, his arms cradling his niblet closer to his chest.  Xander saw the scene and wiped a tear from his eye.  Anya was holding onto his arm, her face full of sorrow.  The crossbow dropped from Giles grasp as he leaned against the tree for balance.  Xander looked back, his arm waving for Tara to begin.

Tara steadied herself, no emotion visible on her face.  She needed to concentrate if this was going to work.  Willow had to be stopped.

"Corrumpo."  She noted the blue energy surrounding her.  "Corrumpo!"  The energy began to slither over her body.  She didn't like the feeling, but she had to continue to give Spike a fighting chance.  "Corrumpo!"  The energy flew from her body and toward Willow's location.  In a flash of light, Willow winced in pain as if 

someone had hit her in the solar plexus.  Tara dropped to the ground, her body weakened by the spell.  The rest was up to Spike.  God help them all.

Spike looked up as the blast of light sliced its way through the energy storm now surrounding Willow.  It had come to this.  There was no backing out now.  Buffy now knelt next to him, gently stroking Dawn's hair, her sobs paining his heart.  He had failed them once again.  _Time to make amends, Spike ol' boy._  He slowly moved Dawn's tiny body over to Buffy.

"Take care of her, luv."  Buffy didn't hear him.  She was still in shock over the loss of her sister.  She cradled Dawn's motionless frame in her arms, her forehead touching the top of her sister's.  Spike looked back on the women that had changed his life.  He wanted to stay and comfort Buffy, but he couldn't.  All he could do now was stop damnation.  

He turned toward Willow, the energy still surrounding her, but flickering.  Whatever Tara had done, it had worked.  He walked into the energy storm, his body beginning to register the pain.  He never looked back, fearing that he'd lose the courage to do what needed to be done.

Willow's arms continued to point to the heavens, bolt after bolt of dark energy coming down upon her. Suddenly, a discoloration in the surroundings.  She looked up and smiled.  The gate was finally opening.

"Yes!  Power!  Power!"  She sounded as though she was happy, but it was unclear since the voice that came out no longer sounded like Willow.  It was then that she felt the hand on her shoulder.

"Funny thing 'bout power."  She turned around to see Spike standing there.  His skin had begun to peel and wither with the energy surrounding them.  However, he seemed oddly calm at this moment.  His dark side emerged onto his face, startling Willow.  "It's fleeting."

His mouth came down upon her neck, his teeth sinking into her flesh.  The spell had worked after all.  It was a twofold spell.  It weakened the energy field surrounding Willow just enough for Spike to survive and it weakened the human side of Willow, thus negating the chip that the Initiative had placed in his brain.

He pulled her close to him, feeling her body struggling to escape his grasp.  However, Spike wouldn't let go, no matter the pain he now endured.  It felt as if he was drinking raw power instead of blood.  He both hated and savored the feeling of feeding once again.  He hated it because it reminded him of his past.  He savored it because he was releasing his hatred.  His pain.  _Dawn.  I promise, I'll make things better, li'l bit._  He plunged deeper into Willow's neck, the energy tearing his being apart.  He wouldn't let go though.  He wouldn't fail them again.  Never again.

Buffy stayed close to her sister, while the others made their way over to her.  She was gently rocking Dawn, her sobs still drowning out the surrounding noise.

"No."  Xander began to feel tears falling down his cheek as he whispered to no one in particular.  Anya stayed close to his side, not knowing how to comfort the man that had brought her happiness.  She wrapped her arm around his; squeezing it as though she was afraid he would disappear.  Before they could vocalize their sorrows, a bright flash of yellow light emerged from the black energy field.  They all instinctively shielded their eyes as though they were looking at the sunrise from the horizon, wanting to get a better view.

The yellow energy field began to expand, the black beginning to dissipate.  It was then that they all saw what was happening inside the vortex.

"Spike."  Giles' monotone summarized what everyone was thinking.  He was doing it.  He was trying to stop Willow.  It was the most foreign sight the group had ever seen.  Except for one.

"Spike?"  Buffy looked up from Dawn's lifeless body, staring into the energy field in awestruck wonder.  It was then she realized what had happened.  He had gone through with it.  He was trying to stop Armageddon.  She had already lost Dawn.  She couldn't lose Spike.  Not now.  Not after what had happened in the kitchen.  "Spike!"  She gently laid Dawn's head on the ground and started to move toward the energy field.  Giles stepped in front of her before she could advance any further.  "Get out of my way.  He needs me."

"I'm sorry, Buffy.  You can't go in there.  The feedback has already started.  You wouldn't have a chance were you to go in there."  He sounded confident as he said this, but his face gave him away.  There was a sense of sorrow evident.  He had seen her lose so much ever since she was chosen.  Now to lose both Dawn and Spike in the same moment would devastate her.  She was about to toss him to the side, until she heard Tara.

"Look.  Something's happening."  Buffy looked over Giles' shoulder, the sight sending chills down her spine.  Willow continued to struggle in Spike's grasp.  But that wasn't what chilled her.  It was Spike.  His body, battered and bruised from the violent energy, had taken up a purple tint.  It was almost as if he wasn't entirely there anymore, almost phased out of reality.  The yellow energy field continued to expand, the black fading ever faster.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake.  Stumbling around for some semblance of balance, most fell to the ground.  All but Buffy.  She continued to look into the energy field, watching every moment that would decide the future of the world.  Then, a white light emerging from Spike's body shot up to the heavens, hitting the gate.  She saw him throw Willow out of the vortex, as if it was a reflex.

Willow landed just outside the proximity of the energy field, yellow energy now surrounding Spike, white shooting to the heavens.  His body began to shake uncontrollably, and even though the noise of the crackling energies had submerged the cemetery, if not Sunnydale itself, she could hear Spike scream.  It was one of anguish, one of torment.  She moved past the fallen Watcher, toward the energy storm.  She had to save him.  Even if it meant her death again, she had to.  She had lost Dawn; she wasn't going to lose the man that gave meaning to her life again.  However, before she could enter the energy field, a wave of energy cascaded from Spike's body, pushing her off her feet.

She lifted herself up, not looking back to her friends.  As she looked up, she saw it.  The gate was sealing, the last energy pulse from Spike the catalyst.  A loud thunderclap and the gate disappeared.  A final bolt of energy from the gate knocked Spike onto his back, and then nothing.

The ground had stopped shaking; the skies were once again lined with moonlight and stars.  Buffy looked toward Spike, seeing that he was motionless.  "Spike, Spike!"  She got up from the ground and ran over to the fallen vampire.  As she got closer to him, she noticed the odd glow surrounding his body.  The purple energy was still surging through him.  That didn't matter now.  All that mattered was his well-being.  She knelt down next to him, her hands gently squeezing his shoulders.  "Spike, wake up.  Please.."  His body began to stir.

"Did I do it?"  His eyes fluttered open, his voice weak.  "Did I stop her?"  Buffy gently stroked his cheek, a sorrowful smile appearing on her face.

"Yeah, you did it.  You did good."  A weak smile was her reward.  However, she didn't expect what would come from his mouth next.

"I'm sorry, luv.  I couldn't save her."  He meant Dawn.  His eyes began to water, the aura around him intensifying.  Buffy gently kissed him on the forehead, trying to comfort him in his moment of grief.

"It wasn't your fault.  Don't you blame yourself."  Buffy began to cry again.  Such a sad night.  Unbeknownst to her, things weren't over yet.  Spike's body began to spasm in her arms, the purple energy intensifying around him.  Buffy tried to steady his body but felt her hands moving into Spike.  Her look turned from one of sorrow to one of terror.  She quickly pulled her hands out of Spike, noting the purple energy now covering her palms.  He was becoming intangible.  His body couldn't handle the amount of energy Willow had siphoned from the gate.  She was losing him.  "Spike?"  He looked up into her eyes, already knowing what was happening to him.

"Guess this is it, luv."  He began to get up, but Buffy resisted.

"Stay still.  We'll figure out what to do."  She turned back to her friends in the distance.  "Giles!"  His hand gently stroked her chin, tilting her gaze back toward him.

"Too late, Buffy.  Nothin' the Watcher can do now."  He looked calm and serene in this moment.  Almost at peace.

"Don't say that."  The tears came faster now, her cheeks damp.  "Don't you give up on me, Spike.  Not now."  Sobs began to wrack her body.  "Not now."  Then she heard his voice, barely audible, calling to her.

"Tell me about Heaven?"  He gently smiled at her.  She smiled back at him upon hearing the question.  A man could truly change, even the one lying in her lap.

"I don't remember much."  She began to run her fingers through his hair gently, fearing that she'd plunge her hands into him again.  The energy felt warm, comforting, as she moved her hands along him.  "I remember that I was happy.  Very happy."

"Think they'll have room for a damned soul like me?"  The question pained her heart.  Even though he was now an honorable man, his past was tainted with the blood of innocents.

"Of course they will."  She smiled back at him, her tears subsiding.

"You're not a good liar, luv."  She gently laughed at this.  Then she spoke.

"I don't want to lose you."  He felt great joy upon hearing those words.  He was wanted.  He was needed.  He was truly loved.

"Made you and Dawn a promise."  She looked confused upon hearing Spike's words.  He noted her confusion and spoke.  "We'll be together again, Buffy.  I promised."  His body was beginning to deteriorate, the energy glowing much stronger now.  Buffy closed her eyes and leaned toward Spike.  Her lips gently brushed against his, the energy tingling her skin.  Tears rolled down her cheek, onto his face as she continued kissing him.  She wanted this moment to last forever, to be with him until the end of time. But fate had other plans.  

The weight on her lap lessened, as did the sensation around her lips.   She slowly opened her eyes to see the purple energy no longer had a coherent form.  It began to disperse and float upward.  Buffy's hands moved to her face, her tears coming stronger now, her sobs overcoming her.  She was stirred from her position by a voice from behind her.

"Buffy!"  She slowly turned around to see the purple energy drifting toward her friends.  It slowly swirled around the group until it hovered over Dawn.  Buffy got up from her knees and began to walk over to the commotion.  She walked past Willow's unconscious body, paying it no heed.  As she got closer to the others, she saw the purple energy that was contained in Spike's body cover Dawn.  It made it's way into her body, flowing into her with ease.

"Oh, my God."  Giles had spoken once again.  He removed his glasses, wiping them with shirttail as he customarily did.

"Her neck."  Anya's eyes widened in wonder and surprise, as did the rest of the group.  Buffy was close enough to see the gash across Dawn's throat begin to seal itself.  Her pace quickened, not believing what she had just seen.  Then she thought her eyes were playing tricks with her.  Did Dawn's foot just twitch?

As the remaining remnants of energy made its way into Dawn's body, a slight glow surrounded her followed by a loud gasp.  She was breathing.  Dawn's eyes flew open, her hands moving to her throat, evidently remembering the prior moments that led to her being here.  Buffy began to run toward her sister; a smile now emerging from her face, tears streaming.  Her arms flew around her younger sibling, pulling Dawn closer to her.

"Buffy?"  She was alive.  Dawn was truly alive.

"It's okay, Dawnie.  It's okay."  Buffy squeezed tighter, hearing Dawn let out a sigh.  "Oh, sorry."  Dawn smiled back at her and saw the group around her, all smiles.  All but one.

"Buffy?  Where's Spike?"  Buffy slowly pulled away, her joy now being mixed with her previous sorrow.

"He's gone, Dawn."  Buffy saw the tears come quickly, her sister now burying her face against her.  "I know, Dawn."  She comforted Dawn as best she could, but she couldn't hide her loss.  "I miss him too."

It was at that moment that Buffy realized how she and Spike were so much alike.  Her gift was death.  His was life.

To be continued 


	3. The Doctor is in

Title:  The Doctor is in

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Some violence and angst)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to Forever.

Summary:  Third part of Falling into You series.  

Status:  Finished (Part III of ?)

It had been a hundred and two days since he gave his life.  Funny, that she was counting the days.  It was almost as if she was counting the days until she'd see him again.  As though he had simply gone on vacation and would eventually come back.  But her heart knew better.  He had left her.  Like all of the other men in her life.  And now she was alone.

"Excuse me, but what room are you looking for?"

Buffy looked up at the nurse, eyeing her nametag.  Doris.  Nice name.

"Rosenberg.  Willow Rosenberg."  The nurse quickly tapped a few keys on the keyboard, her focus on the screen not really there.

"Oh, here she is."  She never looked at Buffy as she spoke.  "Room 120."  Even with this new information, she was still unsure of where to go.  The nurse looked up, sensing her confusion.  "Down that hall.  Should be to the right."

"Thank you, miss."  Buffy walked down the hall, the flowers dangling in her hand.  Xander and Anya had already been here.  Anya, just to comfort Xander if he needed it.  Xander, on the other hand.  He was still in turmoil.  They all were.  But Willow had been in a coma ever since that day.  That day.

Buffy casually looked at the plaques adjacent to the doors.  "117.  118.  119.  120."  Buffy took a deep breath, her hands shaking.  She didn't want to go in.  She still had anger for her best friend.  But Dawn had told her to go see Willow.  It would start the healing process.  Dawn would know best of all.  She had died because of Willow.  Well, not really Willow.  Drusilla had delivered the deathblow, but Willow was pulling the strings nonetheless.  Her hand gently pushed the door open.  She didn't expect to see what was behind the door.

There was a tube in her nose, most likely to aid in the breathing process.  Her chest moved in rhythm to the pump to the right of her.  Other tubes were delivering necessary nutrients to her comatose body.  The EKG was pulsing steadily, indicating that the motionless body on the bed was definitely alive. Buffy moved slowly to the side of the bed, placing the flowers on the nightstand.  She pulled a chair to the side to sit, her eyes now at the same level as Willow's.  Buffy couldn't help but notice that she looked so peaceful.  She wondered if that's what she looked like after her battle with Glory.

"Hey, Will."  She didn't know what to say.  A moment of silence and she found her hand on top of hers.  It felt warm, another indication that she was alive.  Her eyes gazed over her friend's body when she saw it.  The puncture wounds on her neck.  They had healed, but there was a slight discoloration.  Light skin against dark.  She couldn't stop the tears that were now swelling in her eyes.

"Why'd you do it?"  She was shaking her head, tears still in her eyes.  "That's the only thing I can't figure out.  Didn't you think you were special enough?"  Her voice began to rise.  "Because that couldn't be it.  Xander hasn't tried to destroy the world just to prove he could."  Buffy began to squeeze Willow's hand tighter, not realizing that she was.  "He knows that he's special to us!  Why couldn't you see that too?!?  Why?!?  Why?"

Her face was now against Willow's arm, tears freely flowing.  Buffy was muttering now.  "Why didn't you just talk to me?"  Willow never moved.

She didn't know how long she'd stayed with Willow.  One moment she was crying at Willow's side, the next, she was standing in front of her house.  The sun was down.  She'd be patrolling with Spike right about now.  She pushed the thought to the back of her mind before she started missing him once again.  She corrected herself.  Missing him more.  She unlocked the door and slowly made her way in.

"Hey, Buffy."  She looked up the staircase to see Tara coming down the stairs.  Buffy had asked her to move back in ever since the Scoobies had lost two of their members.  It seemed the best thing.  The house was so lonely now without Willow and Sp…  She stopped herself once again.

"Hey."  Buffy hung up her jacket.  Not hers.  Spike's.  It was the only thing she had to remind herself of him.  It wasn't like they had taken pictures like normal couples did.  All she had left was her memories and his jacket.  They'd have to be enough.  "How's Dawnie?"

"She's doing her homework."  Tara was now on the first floor, standing in front of Buffy.  "English.  What a stupid language.  What kind of language spells knife with a k?"  Buffy smiled gently.  It was a stupid language.  "Even an Englishman would have trouble with the subject."  Buffy's mind went back to Spike's poetry.  It was bad.  God was it bad.  But at least it was hers.

"You guys have dinner yet?"  Buffy moved into the kitchen, heading toward the fridge.  She grabbed a bottle of water when Tara spoke.

"Yep.  Sorry, we weren't sure when you'd be back from patrolling."  Buffy sat by the counter, nestling the bottle between her hands.  "Plenty of leftovers though."

"Thanks.  But it'll have to wait.  I still have to do the patrolling thing."  Tara finally pieced together what she was saying.

"You're now getting back from the hospital?"  Buffy nodded, taking another sip of water.  "Well, you should really eat something before you go out."  They looked at each other for a moment and smiled.

"Thanks, mom."

"Came off kinda parental, didn't I?"  Tara sat next to Buffy, wondering when things would get back to normal.  Giles had left for England once again.  Xander and Anya had postponed the wedding out of respect of what had transpired.  And Buffy and Dawn were still in mourning.  Leave it to a vampire to change their life so much.  "So, how'd she look?"  Tara had been there on the first day.  She hadn't been back since.  Seeing Willow like that hurt her too much.

"You know.  Like a patient.  Hospital gown.  The works."  Her tone moved from jovial to somber.  "Seriously though, no change."

"You okay?"  Tara noted that Buffy was now moving into solemn mode now.

"Yeah.  Dawn was right.  Oddly enough, I feel better."  Another sip.  "Even though I still feel crappy."  Tara nodded agreement.  Feelings all around had been sorrowful with light sprinklings of happiness.  "But it was a good idea.  Think I'll stop by tomorrow."  Her heart wasn't really in it though.  Willow had hurt her.  Had hurt all of them.  It would take time before things went back to normal.

"I'll go with you.  You know.  Power in numbers, and all that good stuff."  Buffy gently smiled.

"Okay."  She finished off the water and dropped the bottle in the recycling bin.  "I'm going to go upstairs to say goodnight to Dawnie before I go out."  Tara nodded.

"Okay.  You want me to leave your dinner in the oven?  You know, so you'll have hot delicious food after the slaying?"  Buffy couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, that'll be good.  Thanks, Tara."

"I live to serve.  Wait, I sound like a butler now."  Another shared smile and Buffy went to check in on Dawn.  She slowly peeked her head into her younger sister's room.  However, she wasn't doing homework.  She was looking at something in her hand.  Buffy swung the door open now.

"Not doing your homework again?"  Dawn quickly hid whatever she was looking at underneath her books and turned around to her sister.

"Was too.  I was just, uh, just taking a break."  Buffy took a seat on Dawn's bed, giving her a skeptical look.  "Anyway, shouldn't you be killing many bad things that stereotypically go bump in the night?"

"About to do that.  Just came back from the hospital."  Dawn gave her a surprised look.

"Really?  But that was like three hours ago."  Buffy didn't want to talk about it.

"Lost track of time."  Buffy edged ever closer to Dawn's desk.  "Just like you did."  She lunged for the stack of books, knocking them off the table.  Dawn's hands flew into the mix, grabbing for the object she had hidden.  Dawn swung around, clutching the object to her chest.  Buffy grabbed her, both tumbling onto the bed.

"Stop!"  Dawn was giggling uncontrollably, Buffy grasping for the object in her hands.

"Nuh uh.  Not til I see what you're hiding."  Buffy was smiling now, feeling like she was fifteen again.  They struggled for the object until they rolled off the bed with a resounding thud.

"Oww!  Jerk."  Dawn was laughing as she said this.  Most likely because Buffy was tickling her sides now.  Dawn couldn't resist the Slayer torture and the object dropped out of her hand onto the carpet.  Buffy's hand dove for the object and she stood in triumph.

"Hmm, let's see what you were hid…"  She stopped as soon as she saw what Dawn was looking at.  "Is this…?"  Dawn nodded as she pulled herself to her feet.

"Yep.  That's it."  Buffy sadly smiled.  Dawn missed him too.  At least she wasn't the only one whose heart was hurting because of his absence.  They both sat down on the bed, Dawn sitting close to her sister.  Buffy looked into the mirror that Spike had given her sister to hold until he came back.

"You know, for a vampire, he could be sentimental when he wanted to be."  Dawn smiled as Buffy adjusted the pocket mirror so they were both in the reflection now.

"He was such a sap."  Dawn's comment had them both softly laughing.  "But at least he was our sap."  Buffy felt Dawn's shoulder against hers now.

"Yep."  A moment of silence.  They both missed him.  There was no denying that.  Finally, Dawn spoke.

"Have you seen him lately?"  Buffy gave the pocket mirror back to Dawn, gently squeezing her shoulder.

"I will after patrol."  Buffy began to pick up Dawn's books, stacking them haphazardly on her desk.  "Anything you want me to tell him?"  Dawn sat back at her desk, flipping her notebook open again.

"Nah, I'm good.  Saw him on my way home from school."  Dawn playfully smiled at her sister.  "Go slay.  Have fun."  Buffy softly laughed at her sister as she walked out the door.

"Don't I always?"

"Die, Slayer!"  Buffy was sandwiched between two very gothic vamps.  If she didn't know better, she could have sworn they were from her sociology class back when she did the college scene.  Then again, most of the college crowd was into goth back when she attended.  She back flipped over a tombstone, allowing the two vamps to get intimate with each other.  As they fell to the ground, Buffy flipped back, a stake in both hands.  One swift move and both were dusted.

"Uh huh."  Buffy got up quickly, smoothing out Spike's jacket, making sure no vamp dust had gotten on it.  "Why don't you guys ever come up with more original lines?  Can't hire decent writers?"  Buffy waited for a response.  "Fine.  Just because you're dust doesn't mean you have to be rude."  She smirked at her funny and continued on her nightly patrol.  As she continued deeper into the cemetery, she heard a commotion off to the right.  "Oh, goody.  I get to slay and rescue.  Double the pleasure.  Double the fun."

Buffy sprinted toward the ruckus.  As she came into view of the scuffle, she saw someone getting tossed onto their back.  Another victim was wildly swinging an ax at the unruly vamp.  Ax?  How many victims had axes?  She didn't think about it too much as she leapt toward the vamp.  Both rolled past a crypt, Buffy back springing onto her feet.  The vampire began to get up but Buffy kept him earthbound with a roundhouse kick to his face.  A quick kneel down with a stake in hand and another vampire bit the dust.  What was that now, eight vamps in one night?  They were restless all right.

"Thanks for the save, Buff."  She turned around to see Anya helping Xander to his feet.  She casually walked over to them, an amusing smile on her face.  Why did they always feel like she needed backup during patrol?  They still didn't see the whole picture.  The patrolling thing was almost like a normal person tying their shoes.  Just with vampires.

"No prob.  So, what are you guys doing out here anyway?"  Xander was now on his feet, trying to regain his masculinity.  Anya just looked annoyed.

"Dropped by earlier.  Tara said you went patrolling.  Decided to come out and support the home team."

"I wanted to go home and look up caterers."  Buffy and Xander humorously looked over to an agitated Anya.  "What?  Like the wedding's going to plan itself, right?"  Buffy smiled at the news.

"So, you guys are back in wedding mode?"  Xander innocently grinned.

"Yeah.  We figured we'd pretty much go insane with all the waiting, so we decided to take it nice and slow again."  Anya was brushing her skirt, trying to get the grass clippings off.

"Any slower, and we're gonna need to hire a mortician."  Buffy chuckled.  Leave it to Anya to get right to the point.  "Because we'll most likely be dead."

"We got the point, An."  Xander walked over to his wife to be and kindly squeezed her shoulder.  Buffy was glad for them.  They deserved to be happy.  At least someone deserved to be happy after all the sorrow lately.  Buffy felt giddy at the news.

"That's great, guys.  You decide on a date yet?  Um, another date?"  Xander was now nervous while Anya was smiling.

"Two months from now.  Two months, three days, and nineteen hours from now."  Xander nervously hugged his girlfriend.

"And you thought vampires were terrifying?"  Buffy smiled at this.  Xander and Anya were acting like they did before everything went down with Willow.

"Well, I guess I'll find out whenever I get married."  Buffy's heart sank a bit when she realized what she said.  Married?  That was the furthest thing from her mind now.  She'd give it all up just to see him again.  Just one more day.  Xander caught the change in mood and tried to comfort his friend.

"Anyway, An's going shopping for a wedding dress tomorrow."  Anya caught on to what Xander was trying to do.

"Uh, yeah.  And with that winning Slayer fashion sense you have, it should make shopping that much easier."  She gave Buffy a once over, trying to prove her point.  "See?  Only you could make that leather coat work with those pumps."  Buffy couldn't hold the laugh in.

"Yeah, shopping's definitely a good idea.  I'll invite Dawn and Tara along.  It'll be girls' night out.  Except without the night."  Buffy smiled at her friends.

"What is it, Buffy?"  She didn't say a word.  She simply walked up to Xander and hugged him tightly.  "Oww, losing circulation here."  Buffy giggled as her friend hugged her back.

"Hey!  Watch the hands.  He's my man."  Xander gave Anya an annoyed look while Buffy broke the hug with him.  She turned to Anya and hugged her in the same manner.  "Ooh.  Affection.  A lot of affection.  This feels nice."  Anya hugged Buffy back, unclear on why they were hugging.  Buffy stepped away from the couple, kindly looking at them.

"Congratulations, guys.  If anyone deserves to be the first of the Scoobies to walk down the aisle, it's you two."  Xander and Anya genuinely smiled at the Slayer, not really fearing the big day that much anymore.

"Thanks, Buff.  That means a lot, coming from you."  Anya nodded her approval as well.

"Well, I think you two should head on home.  I don't think there's going to be any more action tonight."  Xander had his worried face on now.

"You sure?  Because we don't mind patrolling a little more with you."  Anya gave him a "shut the heck up" look.  Buffy caught it.

"Really.  Everything's copasetic.  Go home and get some rest.  You two deserve it after all the slayage tonight."  Xander was about to talk but Anya cut him off.

"Okay, Buffy.  I'm going to go home and nurse my man back to health."  She mischievously smiled at Xander as she said this.  Buffy had an awkward grin now.  She would never get used to Anya's very open opinions about her sex life.  With Xander.  She was getting images in her mind now.  Bad, very bad.  Stopping now.

"Sounds like a plan."  Buffy pulled Spike's coat closer to her body, trying to keep the cold out.

"How about you, Buff?  You calling it a night?"

"Not yet.  Have one more stop to make."

She sat down next to the tombstone, her shoulder leaning against the side of it.  Her legs were cradled underneath her while her arms were crossed across her chest.  She remained motionless for a while, just looking up into the sky.  It was a beautiful night.  The clouds had decided to take the night off, leaving only the stars in the sky.  She gently smiled.  He would have loved tonight.

"So, how are you?"  The tombstone didn't answer back.  "Yeah, silly question."  She rested her head against the rough stone, not feeling the cold.  "I can't help but ask you if you're okay.  So sue me, I care about you."  A sigh escaped her lips.  She hated being here.  He wasn't even in the ground.  They had only bought the tombstone since there were no remains after his encounter with Willow.  She was touched when the gang had decided upon purchasing the headstone.  Even Giles had chipped in.  Leave it to Spike to be cared for after he left them.  She laughed softly.  It was exactly like him.

"Anyway, Xander and Anya have started planning for the wedding again.  It's good for them, to start moving on with their lives."  She looked up once again, catching sight of a shooting star.  "Was that you?"  She immediately flashed back to a conversation they had when they had first become intimate.  When she was essentially using him for sex while he thought it was something more.  She hated needing him at first, but she knew now.  She'd always need him.  And she now realized that it was the best thing she ever had.

_Come on, Slayer.  You don't know what stars really are?_

_Umm, very gassy pockets?_

_Funny.  They're souls._

_Excuse me?_

_You heard me.  The whole big cycle.  We live here.  Then when we pass from this mortal coil, if we're good enough, we get to become a star._

_Where'd you hear that load from?_

_Careful, Slayer.  My mum told me that._

_Oh._

_What?  Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I don't have fond memories of mummy dearest.  Anyway, I just think that it's kinda poetic.  After we're done here, there's something waiting on the other side, is all._

_Well, I don't remember being a star when I died.  I just remember peace.  Peace and happiness._

_Ever thought that you were at peace because you were floating in the heavens?  Look at it, luv.  Tell me that isn't the most peaceful thing you've ever seen._

_Okay, okay.  It's peaceful.  Happy now?_

_You know, if it weren't for that brilliant shag session we just had in my crypt, I'd say you were vexed.  What?  I didn't perform up to expectations?_

_No.  That's not it.  You were brilliant there._

_Damn right I was.  Fine, I won't prod for fear of getting a redwood through my chest._

_I'm not gonna…fine, whatever.  Anyway, if your mom's theory is true, where does that leave you?  It's not like you're ever going to be up there._

_Know how to hurt a person, don't ya, luv._

_I'm…I'm sorry.  I didn't mean…_

_No, you're right.  With the body count I have behind me, I'll be lucky to get a nice corner seat in a decent nether realm._

Her eyes were now filled with tears.  She quickly swiped her eyes with the jacket sleeve.  She had done enough crying over him.  She had promised herself that she wouldn't anymore.  She just broke it.  "I'm sorry, Spike.  I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out what this thing was between us."  She hiccupped, her train of thought interrupted.  A moment later and she began speaking again.

"Why did you love me?"  Her voice was now a whisper, as though she didn't want him to hear her.  "After all the insults and abuse.  How could you love me so unconditionally?"  Buffy began to shake.  She pulled her arms around her, trying to steady herself.  "And why couldn't I love you until it was too late?"  She sat in silence, hoping for an answer.  One never came.

She couldn't help but stare at the clock.  It was almost like being back in school.  Except she wasn't really learning.  All she had to do was keep the line moving.  A deposit here, a withdrawal there.  She wasn't allowed to handle loan requests, so she'd just point to the back desks where the people who got more money than her sat.  She was cool with it though.  She finally had a job that was good enough to support both her and Dawn.  And the benefits were more than adequate.  Who knew medical insurance was such a necessity for a Slayer?  The lines in the bank were essentially nonexistent now.  Didn't matter much anyway now.  The big hand had just hit twelve and the small hand had just hit five.  She was officially free.  She tidied up her teller window, gathered her stuff, and said goodnight to her coworkers.  Well, the ones that accepted her anyway.  There were a few that thought she was simply a ditz pushing papers.  If they only knew.

She made her way down the sidewalk, her destination the clothing store where she was supposed to meet Anya.  Tara would be there with Dawn by now.  According to Anya, she had some connections with the manager of the store.  Basically, she had increased his business by using Anya's marketing campaign.  You had to hand it to the girl; she knew how to handle money.  So, as a favor, the manager would stay open after hours just for Anya.  After a few uneventful minutes, she walked up to the store.  The sign on the store said "Closed" but she saw Anya inside with Tara, Dawn, and an elderly man.  She knocked on the door, getting Dawn's attention.  Dawn ran over to the door to let her sister in.

"Hey, Buffy.  Have fun at work?"  Buffy stifled a groan.

"Oh yeah.  Loads."  Buffy sidled over to Tara and the elderly man, Anya spinning around in a white satin dress like she was a princess.

"Hi, Buffy.  Long day?"  Buffy nodded at Tara and extended her hand out to the gentleman.

"Hello.  I'm…"

"Buffy Summers.  Yes, yes.  I've heard all about you from your friends."  The manager shook her hand forcefully, almost shaking Buffy off her feet.  This work thing could really take it out of a person.  "I'm Mr. Stevens.  But everyone calls me Roy."  A kind smile and Buffy responded.

"Nice to meet you Mr…"  He shook his finger at her.  "Uh, Roy."  The kindly man continued smiling and went back to tend to Anya.  Buffy slumped down next to Tara, dropping her purse to the ground as she did.  Tara gently squeezed her shoulder, as if she was telling Buffy that she understood what she was going through.  A quick smile between friends and everyone turned to Anya.

"Buffy, do you think that's a wedding dress?"  Dawn stood behind Buffy and Tara, her elbows propped up on the cushions of the couch, her chin cradled in her hands.  Buffy had to admit, it looked kind of skimpy for a wedding dress.

"Yes.  I want to hear Buffy's opinion since Tara and Dawn have no sense of fashion."  Dawn stuck her tongue out at Anya while Tara mockingly frowned.  Buffy gave her a once over as though she was thinking it over.

"I don't know, Anya.  Xander might get jealous of all the guys in the crowd."  She playfully smiled.  "After all, I think only the groom is supposed to see that much skin."  The top of the dress had spaghetti straps while the bottom was almost akin to a mini skirt.  Just a bit longer.  And white.

"What?"  Anya was sure that Buffy would side with her.  With the outfits Buffy got away with, she had to like the dress.  "This is the latest fashion."  Tara had to hear the explanation.

"Says who?"

"Says Vogue."  Anya motioned over to the magazine by her pocketbook.  Tara picked up the magazine and thumbed to the page that was dog-eared.  Sure enough, there was the dress, in all its glory.  She held the picture up to the room as though she were participating in show and tell.  Buffy shook her head.

"I think maybe you should go a bit more…"

"Traditional?"  It was as if Roy had read her mind.  Buffy gently tapped her nose, pointing to him, while Dawn and Tara laughed at the gesture.

"And you win the grand prize."  Roy playfully bowed while Anya looked confused.  "Look, I think I know Xander well enough to know that he's a traditional kinda guy."  Dawn giggled.  "What?"

"Oh yeah.  Xander's real traditional.  He works construction by day, fights evil at night, and he's marrying a demon."

"Ex-demon!"  Anya sounded offended but knew that Dawn didn't mean any harm.  Tara decided to put her two cents in.

"I think Buffy's right."  She decided to talk to Anya about a subject that she could easily identify with.  "And, the more skin you cover, the more Xander will want you on the wedding night."  This definitely caught Anya's attention while Roy was measuring the dress' trim.

"Really?"  Buffy felt a bit uncomfortable, talking sex in front of Dawn, but decided to relent.  Dawn was mature enough to know about the birds and bees.  After all, she knew about Willow and Tara.  Even her mom had trouble with that one.

"Yep.  Think about it.  The less he sees of you during the ceremony, the more of you he'll want to see during the wedding night."  Buffy decided to play along.

"Yeah, that's right."  Dawn was smiling now.  She understood what was going on.  "You don't want Xander looking at you during the ceremony thinking, 'Oh, I'm gonna have that tonight.  Again.'  You want him to think, 'Man, I wonder what she's wearing under there.  I can't wait til tonight so I can rip that dress off her.'"  Buffy was starting to feel weird, talking like a horny Xander, but if she could get her point across, it was well worth it.  Anya began to think about what Buffy and Tara had said.  Then she spoke.

"Roy, I want a dress that covers all of me."  He smirked at her response.  The women had effectively blackmailed her into something more suitable by means of sex.  "Even my arms and here."  Anya pointed to her exposed cleavage, Roy blushing as he went into the back room.  "I want extra special sex.  I don't want typical Xander sex."  The women wondered if they had heard too much.  Before the moment of awkward silence could sink in, Roy was back, carrying a dress with him.  He carefully pulled the plastic away from the dress, holding it up by the hanger in front of him.  "Is that traditional?"

The rest of the group was speechless.  Buffy stood up, her hand almost over her mouth.  It was almost like the one in her dreams.  When she dreamt that she could have a normal life.  Finally, she spoke.  "Yeah.  That's…that's…"

"Perfect."  Tara filled in the missing blank.  Tara was now on her feet as well, Dawn rounding the couch to stand with the rest of the group.  Anya, seeing the approving smiles from everyone, nodded.

"Okay then.  This is the dress that I want to get married in, Roy."  Roy gently laughed.

"I thought you might."  He moved back to the counter, writing up a sales slip.  "We'll alter it to your measurements.  It should be ready for you in, oh…a couple of days."  Anya smiled.  She finally had her dress.  Now all she had to do was walk down the aisle with it.

The gang had gathered outside the store while Roy remained inside to do some final checks on the day's sales.  The sun was down, and everyone was feeling a bit hungry.  Dinner was definitely a good idea right about now.  Dawn decided to vocalize the thought first.  "I'm hungry.  Can we go get something to eat?"

Buffy gently rubbed her sister's head, smiling softly.  She was in total agreement.  "I'm with that plan.  Guys?"

"Sounds good.  I have to stop by the Magic Box first.  Have to finish some write ups before tomorrow."  Tara looked at Anya when she said this.

"Hey, can I come with you?  I'm running low on mug wart."  Buffy gave her a quizzical look.  "I use it to help me sleep."

"Oh."  Buffy could definitely identify with that ailment.  Sleep was a rarity to her nowadays.  She always saw the same thing every time she closed her eyes.  Losing him.

"Yeah, you can come along.  How about we meet up later at Georgio's."  They all knew it.  Pizza sounded good.  Actually, anything sounded good.  As long as it was tasty and edible.  "Say, half an hour?"

"That works.  Dawnie and I have to pick up some groceries anyway."  Dawn groaned.  She hated errands.  Especially those of the nightly variety.  "See you guys in half an hour."  Buffy watched the two women walk down the sidewalk and then turned to Dawn.  "Well, it's just you and me, bit."

"What did you say?"  Buffy was startled that she had said it.  Spike's term of endearment for her little sister.  Dawn noted the look of sorrow on her face and decided to change the topic.  "It's okay.  I don't think he'd mind if you started using his word."  Buffy smiled at her sister as they both began walking to the supermarket.

Buffy clutched her paper bag handily while Dawn was struggling with hers.  "No fair.  I got the heavier one."  Buffy feinted insult by the accusation.

"Dawnie.  I wouldn't do that.  Look, if you want to trade, you're gonna find out that this is the heavier bag."  Buffy didn't look at her sister as she responded.

"Well, it's not like we all have Slayer power."  Dawn began to put on her doe eyed expression.  "Come on, Buffy.  You can carry both bags.  My arms are gonna fall off!"  Buffy smiled playfully at her sister.

"Sorry, little sister.  Not gonna work on me.  Spike on the other hand."  Spike would have carried both bags and Dawn on her shoulders if the situation warranted it.

"Yeah.  Spike actually cared for my well being."  Dawn was still trying to guilt Buffy into carrying the bag.

"Yes.  Yes he did."  Buffy stuck her tongue out at Dawn and smiled mischievously.  She wouldn't give in.  She'd win this fight.

"Fine, be that…"  Buffy waited for Dawn to finish the sentence but it never came.  Buffy looked down to see that Dawn was no longer at her side.  She turned around to see that Dawn was standing still, the bag's contents on the ground.  Something was wrong.  Buffy walked over to Dawn, noting that she was staring at something.

"What is it, Dawnie?"

"It's him."  She lifted her finger, pointing at the person that had instilled such fear in her.  Buffy followed her finger until she saw him as well.

"Oh, no."  She remembered that figure.  He had the same posture, the same receding hairline, and the same eyes.  She would never forget those eyes and that evil smile.

"Doc."  Buffy turned back to Dawn.  She looked like she was in shock.  Couldn't blame her though.  He was the one responsible for opening the hellgate.  By cutting Dawn.  By bleeding her.  And here he was, on the same sidewalk, walking toward them, his nose in a book, some type of medical bag to his side.

"Wait here, Dawnie."  She nodded as Buffy walked toward the old demon.  Doc lifted his head out of the book just in time to see Buffy's hand connect with his face.  The people on the sidewalk decided to ignore the events that were transpiring, just like normal people usually did.  "You got a lot of nerve, showing your face back here in Sunnydale."  He just smiled as he sat on the ground.

"That makes both of us."  Doc tried to make his way to his feet, but Buffy pushed him back down again.  "Okay.  I see where this is going.  I'll stay down here.  For now."  He crossed his arms as though it was normal to sit on the sidewalk.  "Shouldn't you be dead?  Saw you jump, I did."

Buffy was getting irritated.  She was about to let the expletives fly, but noticed that Dawn was now by her side.  "Dawn, I told you to…"  Doc interrupted the Slayer.

"Hey, little girl.  Hope you're still not mad over that whole knife incident."  Dawn moved behind Buffy for protection while Buffy seriously considered pounding on this guy until she made Dawn feel better.  "Oh, I figured it out."  The sisters were now confused.

"What are you babbling about?"  Doc never took his eyes off Dawn.

"Your friend.  The lanky one, leather jacket.  Hair that could blind someone.  Had a case of vampirism."  Dawn's eyes widened.  Buffy was still unclear on what this crazy loon was trying to say.  "I thought I saw him before.  But I was wrong.  I hadn't seen him before that night."  Dawn flashed back to the night when Spike brought her to Doc's.  To help in resurrecting her mom.  "I was only remembering what I would eventually see."

"What?  That doesn't even make sense."  Buffy was moving from irritated to extremely pissed.  Dawn, on the other hand, was starting to piece it together.

"Where did you say he'd be?"  Buffy was shocked when Dawn started talking to the demon.  She didn't sound afraid anymore.  She sounded almost…hopeful?

"You do remember."  Doc had a smirk on his face, glad that someone had paid attention.

"Where?!?"  Buffy noted the urgency in Dawn's voice now.  Doc still remained calm, sitting on the sidewalk as passersby paid them no mind.

"The corner mart."  He pointed across the street to a store.  Looked like a little mom and pop store by the décor.  "Think he's in the middle of a game of dominoes.  Didn't notice me though.  Or, he didn't want to notice me."  Dawn left Buffy's side, running across the street.

"Dawn!"  Buffy could only watch as her sister made her way across the street.  She looked back down at Doc, seeing him smirking back at her.

"Well, you should go after her.  Wouldn't want some nasty getting hold of her.  She may not open up anything anymore, but then again, most monsters don't need a reason to mutilate a little girl."  Buffy hit him again in the face and ran across the street.  Doc never stopped smiling.  He got up, gathered his things, and continued down the sidewalk as if nothing had ever happened.

Buffy had thrown her bag to the wayside, trying to make up some distance between Dawn and herself.  As she neared the store, she saw Dawn hugging someone.  There were men, both young and old, in front of the store.  She could make out the top of his head.  It was brownish blonde, somewhat curly.  Doc was right.  They were playing dominoes.  Buffy slowed herself as she walked up to the group.  It couldn't be.

"I missed you so much.  I missed you…"  Dawn's tears stopped her from being coherent.  She just clung to the young man.  Her head moved to his shoulder, allowing Buffy to finally see the face of the person Dawn was hugging.

"Hello, luv.  Can I assume that this li'l lady's with you?"  Buffy's eyes began to swell with tears.  She was stumped for words.  So, she said the only thing that she could.

"Spike?"

To be continued 


	4. The Devil's Deliverance

Title:  The Devil's Deliverance

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Some violence and angst)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to Forever and After Life.

Summary:  Fourth part of Falling into You series.  

Status:  Finished (Part IV of ?)

Dawn still had her arms around his neck, sobbing happily into his shoulder.  He looked up at Buffy, awkwardly rubbing Dawn's back.  The look on his face was one of surprise.  The look on Buffy's was one of fear.  "Spike?"

"Funny.  That's the second time someone's called me by that name today."  He gently removed Dawn's arms from around his neck, slowly standing up.  The other men sat there, watching the scene unfold.  Dawn didn't want to let go, but when she saw the sincere smile on his face, she happily stepped back, allowing him some room.  Buffy stood there, unsure of what to feel at this moment.  "I don't know who this Spike fella is, but I'm definitely not him."

Buffy's heart sank in her chest.  He looked like Spike.  He sounded like Spike.  His eyes were as blue and serene as his.  But it wasn't him.  She wondered who could be so cruel as to play such a harsh game with her heart.  Buffy held back her tears, wanting to make certain this wasn't another of Spike's playful taunts.  "I'm sorry about this."  She pulled Dawn to her side, noting the look of confusion in her eyes.  "My little sister thought you were someone else.  I'm Buffy.  Buffy Summers.  And you are?"  She extended her hand out, waiting for some type of response.

He grinned at her, unsure of what was going on.  However, he decided to play along.  "Rocco's my name.  Just Rocco."  He took her hand in his, feeling her shake under his grasp.  She was nervous.  Why, though, he was still unclear.  "Pleasure to meet you."  He bent down to one knee, kindly looking at Dawn, who was now behind her sister, tears swelling.  "And what's your name, bit?"

She looked up at Buffy, still uncertain of what was happening.  "Buffy?"  Buffy nodded to her, a small yet sad smile on her face.  She turned back to the man who said his name was Rocco.  He continued smiling, even though she had essentially accosted him earlier.  "I'm Dawn."  He nodded at her, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

"That's a pretty name.  Very pretty indeed."  The guys at the table began to stir, feeling uncomfortable at the situation that was unfolding in front of them.

"Hey, Rocco.  We're calling it a night since you've obviously gone AWOL on us."  The other men nodded, one collecting the tiles into a small velvet bag.  They kindly acknowledged the two women standing next to Rocco, and leisurely took their leave.

"Alright then.  Next week?  Same time?"  An older man spoke this time, waving his cane over his back, never turning around.

"Same as usual, Rocco.  Same as usual."  The men could be heard chattering between one another as they disappeared down the street.  Rocco turned around slowly to see the two women still standing there, looking at him as though he should have recognized them.  He scanned his memory, but nothing clicked.  He thought to himself, how could he possibly forget these two.  Especially the pretty blonde.

"Soooo.  Was there something else I could do for you girls?"  His hand glided over the table, grabbing a pair of reading glasses.  He stuck them into a case and stuffed in into his pants pocket.  Buffy couldn't help but notice them.  They were new, but they had the same shape and feel as Spike's old reading glasses.  Things were getting too surreal now.  This had to be more than a coincidence, she thought to herself.

"Dinner."  Buffy blurted the word out, unsure of what she meant.  Dawn and Rocco gave her a look of astonishment.

"Dinner?"  Rocco placed his hands in his back pockets, gently rocking on the balls of his feet.  Did this beautiful woman just ask him out on a date?  He felt like he'd died and gone to Heaven.

"It's the least we can do for troubling you.  We interrupted your game of…"  Rocco waved his hand, indicating for her to stop.

"S'okay.  I was losing anyway."  She smiled at him.  They both smiled at him.  He didn't know why, but it made him happy, having them treat him like this.  "So, just give me the where and when and I'll be there."  He was acting desperate now.  Couldn't have that.  Time to cover his masculinity.  "Mind you.  It's not like I do this sort of thing every night.  Walking off with strangers and such."

Dawn giggled a bit.  He sure acted like Spike.  But the hair was odd.  She'd never seen Spike with brown curly hair.  Or in color.  This man had on a pair of blue jeans and a tan polo shirt.  Spike in polo?  Never happen.  Buffy spoke.  "Georgio's."  He nodded at her.  He knew where that was.  "Uh, about now."  He shot her a smile.  Was she serious?

"Now?"    He noticed that they were still acting a bit reticent, but they had relaxed more in his presence.

"Sure.  Why not now?  Now seems good.  See, the sun's down."  Buffy couldn't stop rambling.  She felt like she was back in high school trying to talk to the quarterback.  But this time it wasn't the quarterback.  It was someone who looked like the person she loved.  She stopped herself, giving him an embarrassed look.  He politely stood there, looking at Dawn now.

"Is you sis always like this?"  Dawn bunched her shoulders up, indicating that she wasn't sure what he meant.  Another quick smile.  "Nervous around new people, that is."  He moved his gaze back to Buffy, seeing that she was blushing.  He felt good.  Not only was she interested in him, she looked so cute when she was nervous.

"Yep.  Always nervous."  Dawn moved away from Buffy's side, allowing herself to stand closer to Rocco.  Buffy looked down at her sister accusingly.

"Am not."  He smiled as the two sisters began to bicker.  He felt that the situation was somewhat familiar.  He shook his head, dismissing it as a case of déjà vu.

"Are too."  The younger sister was now sticking her tongue out at the older one.  The older one looked as though she was about to dropkick the younger one across the city.  He decided to end the conflict.

"Ladies.  Ladies."  The two women stopped talking, turning to the source of the voice.  "I am getting a bit peckish."  He walked in between the two of them, his arm gently grazing Buffy's.  She quivered at the gentle touch.  "May I suggest that we walk while we bicker?"  He threw them a grin over his shoulder, then stuck his hands in his pockets, strolling down the sidewalk toward Georgio's.  "At least that way, I can get something in my stomach before sunup."

Buffy and Dawn looked at each other while Rocco made his way slowly down the sidewalk.  Dawn spoke.  "He acts kinda like Spike."  Buffy nodded agreement.

"Yeah.  And, other than the hair and wardrobe, he looks like Spike too."  Buffy began walking after Rocco, Dawn right by her side.

"Do you think it's a coincidence?"  After their run in with Doc, nothing about this felt coincidental.

"No, I don't think so.  You don't either."  She looked down at her sister as they quickened their pace.  "You're gonna tell me everything about what just happened between you and that madman."  Dawn nodded at her sister and proceeded to do just that.

He looked back to see the two of them talking amongst themselves.  He decided to give them some personal time while he stayed ahead of them.  After all, it wasn't like they could hurt him.  And, honestly, he was a bit curious about where all this was going.  One moment, he was hanging with his mates, slapping bones down on the table, and the next, a cute teenager was crying and laughing and saying she missed him while hanging by his neck.  It definitely was one of the odder days in his life.  Though, not as odd as his stay in England.  He shook off the memory, focusing on the moment at hand.

"So, he told Spike that he'd seen him before?"  Buffy couldn't believe what her sister was telling her.

"Yeah.  The night when I tried to bring back mom."  She still felt uncomfortable about that incident.  However, Buffy needed the truth.  "Spike brought me to Doc's to get a resurrection spell.  That's when he told Spike that he'd seen him before."

"But, that was so vague, Dawnie."  Buffy was shaking her head in disbelief.  "How'd you put the pieces together?  I don't think I could have understood what that nut was talking about if I had been there."  Dawn looked down the street, seeing that Rocco was looking back at them, smiling gently.

"Yes you would have.  If it was someone you cared about."  Buffy looked in the same direction as Dawn, her eyes falling on the enigma in front of them.  "You would have figured it out in no time."  Buffy nodded at her sister, understanding what she was trying to say.

"Well, let's go talk to this Rocco guy before he decides to beat feet."  Dawn nodded, and the two of them walked faster toward him.  Rocco heard the footfalls coming faster.  Looks like they were done talking.

"You two ladies done gossiping about me?"  He never looked back, but he knew the looks on their faces.  They were probably showing their shock, feinting surprise.  After all, like they had better things to talk about than the mysterious stranger that they had pretty much mistaken for someone else.  They were now on either side of him, Buffy looking up at him.  He was right.  She had the appalled face on.

"We weren't talking about you."  He smirked at the pretty blonde.  That feeling of déjà vu was coming on strong now.  This felt natural.  This felt good.

"Oh, is that right?"  He turned to Dawn, giving her a "got her right where I want her" look.  Dawn smiled back, knowing what he was trying to convey.  "Then what were you two talking about then?  Knitting?"  Buffy looked to her sister for help, but found her only grinning.  She was on her own.

"Shoes."  Why did she say that?  "Yes.  Shoes.  Because shoes are very important for the feet."  She looked down, pointing at her shoes.  "Without shoes, we'd have a bunch of people with…with…"  Rocco never took his eyes off her.  "Blisters."  Dawn couldn't help but giggle.  This was not going well.  And for all she knew, this wasn't even Spike.  Buffy started to fumble for words, but he beat her to the punch.

"I believe you, luv."  He gently stroked Dawn's head.  "Innit what you were talking about, bit?"  Dawn grinned, but then realized that she was stuck in the lie also.  She quickly came to her sister's aid.

"Uh, yeah.  Shoes are very important.  Without shoes, blisters.  Blisters and sores."  He couldn't help but laugh at the situation.  He had just met these two, and he felt as though they've been doing this all their life.

"You're right.  Blisters are the bane of society."  He was laughing now, trying to stop but found that he couldn't.  "Long live the shoe and bollocks everything else."  He ran his hand through his hair, laughing uncontrollably now.  When he regained his composure, his sight was no longer one of two kindly women.  Instead, he was now looking at two people that wanted to thrash him.  Badly.  "Oh, come now."  Buffy had her hands crossed over her chest, Dawn's in her pockets.  Both were scowling at him.  "Shoes?"  A moment later, Dawn started to laugh with Rocco, Buffy following suit.  After the giggle fest, Buffy spoke.

"Okay, so it wasn't the best cover story."  He never stopped smiling at her.  She couldn't help but smile back.  "Like you could do better?"  Rocco stood up straight now, recovering from his bout of laughter, considering the question.

"How's about, 'No, we weren't talking about you, mate.  However, we were talking about that cute butt of yours.'"  The Summers' were speechless.  Did he really just say that?  Rocco knew he'd have to clear the air.  "Tip number one when dealing with someone of the opposite sex.  You want to lie to said person, lie with a compliment.  They never question a compliment."  Buffy and Dawn softly laughed at his wisdom.  But it was still awkward.  He was Spike, but not.  "Well, what do ya know?  All that talking and we're already here."  He pointed to the left, the pizza place out in the distance.  "Gotta hand it to you ladies.  You sure know how to entertain a stranger.  Wonder how you act around friends?"

"It's Spike!  But Spike's dead!  He went poof!"  Anya and Tara weren't handling the situation as well as Buffy and Dawn had.  Buffy had to stop Anya before she said something else that might frighten Rocco away.  She couldn't have him leave yet.  Not until she had all the answers.

"Anya.  Can you come with me to the bathroom?"  Anya didn't get the hint.  Rocco seemed very nervous, almost shaken now.  What had he gotten himself into, he thought to himself.

"No!  Not now.  Spike.  Here.  But Spike.  Not supposed to be here."  Anya was in sensory overload now.  Buffy grabbed her arm, pulling her from the chair.  Tara continued to stare in silence, unsure of what to say.  Dawn gave Tara an understanding look.  This was definitely weird.

"Um, Rocco.  Could you stay with Dawn and Tara?  Anya and I have to pretty ourselves up."  Rocco gave her a timid smile.

"Don't be long, luv."  Buffy forcefully guided Anya to the bathroom, leaving Rocco alone with Dawn and Tara.  Another nervous glance and awkward silence.  "So, Dawn tells me you're a lesbian.  How's that working out for you?"

"Hey, that's my arm!  It's not supposed to bend that way!"  Luckily, the establishment was somewhat empty since it was a weekday.  That and it was getting on into the night.  Buffy corralled Anya into the bathroom, a look of desperation on her face.  "Why'd you do that for?"

"Anya.  You can't say anything about Spike.  Okay?"  Anya was confused.  She still wasn't as versed as the rest of the group when it came to human behavior.

"But why?  He's right outside.  Sitting with Tara and Dawn."  Anya was now massaging her arm.  "And that hurt."  Buffy sighed.

"I'm sorry, Anya.  But I'm not sure if that is Spike."  He looked almost like him, he acted kind of like him, but there was something about him that didn't feel right.  That, and the fact that he didn't know who any of them were.  Who she was.  "I need him to not get wigged out right now.  Not until I call Giles."  Anya waved her hands in defeat.

"Fine.  But he looks like Spike.  How many Spikes can there possibly be?"  Buffy honestly didn't know.  She apologetically smiled at Anya who was still rubbing her forearm.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, nothing that a night with Xander won't cure."  Buffy was stuck with another sexual image of Xander and Anya.  She shook the image from her mind as quickly as possible.

"Okay."  Buffy gently squeezed Anya's tender forearm.  "So, you think you can restrain yourself when we go back out there?"

"I think so."  Anya stared at Buffy for a bit, as though she contemplating something. A quick smile flashed on her face and then she spoke.  "I know.  I'll pretend I'm having foreplay.  It's just as good as lying, but much more fun."  Anya walked past Buffy, who was confused by Anya's logic.  She sighed and followed Anya out to rejoin the group.

"I'm flattered you think that I'm…how did you put it?"

"Tastier than a string of Chippendale dancers."  Buffy was sullen now.  Anya kept her word.  She didn't mention anything about Spike.  However, she did go with the foreplay plan.  And she was rounding indecency right about now.

"Thanks, pet."  Buffy looked at Rocco as they walked out of the establishment.  She could tell that he felt awkward, being hit on by Anya.  She smiled at this.  Wonder how he'd feel if he knew that he was being hit on by an ex-vengeance demon.  And what was that odd feeling in the back of her mind.

"Oh, you should be flattered.  With those cheekbones and that chiseled chest, you definitely put Xander to shame.  But I'm still marrying him."  Tara and Dawn stayed close, Tara still unsure of how to act around the stranger.  Needless to say, her slice of pizza got more attention than the Spike look-alike.

"Um, this Xander fellow's a lucky guy then."  Buffy was still looking at Rocco, the group now standing on the sidewalk.  She was wondering how to work in an invite to her house during the conversation.  Honestly, she didn't know where to begi…did he just smile?  Oh, my God.  He was flirting back with her.  And he was enjoying it.  Buffy finally identified that odd feeling.

"Well, it's late."  Buffy stepped over to Anya, subtly getting in between her and Rocco.  Tara smiled a bit.  She saw it.  Buffy was totally jealous of Anya.  "I think it's time for us to be getting to our respective homes.  Right, Anya?"  Tara decided to help out.

"Yes.  Yes."  She moved over to Anya, gently wrapping her arm around Anya's.  "I think you've had too much to drink."  She gave Buffy a quick smile.  "I'm going to take her to Xander's.  I'll meet up with you guys later, okay?"  Buffy shared Tara's conspiratorial smile.

"That sounds like a good idea.  See you at home."  She gently clapped Anya's shoulder as Tara escorted her away from the group, and in particular, Rocco.  "Good night, Anya."  Anya happily smiled at the group as she and Tara walked away.  Then it hit her.

"Wait.  I didn't imbibe alcohol tonight.  All I had was Fresca."  Buffy couldn't help but smile.  Dawn finally caught the vibe.  She was totally, totally jealous of Anya.

"Good night, Anya."  Buffy turned around, seeing Rocco with a smirk on his face.  "What?"  He kept on smiling.  She felt insecure now.  "Do I have something on my face?"  Buffy instinctively moved her hand across her face, trying to eliminate any foreign matter that shouldn't be there.  Dawn couldn't help but giggle.

"Thanks for the save, Buffy."  Her hand slowly fell to her side, her eyes now locked with his.  "She was cute and all, but she's not really my type."  Buffy softly smiled.  "And being compared to a bunch of wankers like that manmeat lot leaves something to be desired."

"So what is your type?"  Dawn decided to help Buffy out.  Unfortunately, Buffy saw it as more of an inconvenience than anything else.

"Dawnie!"  Dawn was smiling now.  Buffy was so into this guy.

"S'alright, luv.  It's a valid question."  Why was she nervous?  And why was he looking at her that way?  "The type o' girl that does it for me…"  He was moving closer to Buffy, stopping mere inches away from her now.  "Is someone like you, bit."  He rubbed Dawn's head, a sly smile on his face.  Dawn smiled at Buffy, noting the relief in her now.  It was kinda funny, watching Buffy act this way, like a little schoolgirl.

"Oh.  Well, Anya's definitely not your type then."  Buffy found her hands in her pockets now, her head looking down.  All she had to do was ask to see him again.  Not a date.  Definitely not a date.  But Giles had to see him.  Giles would know what to do.  Okay, just work up the nerve and…

"This was fun, luv."  Buffy looked up to see Rocco gently smiling at her, Dawn still at his side.  "Ain't that right, bit?"

"Loads of fun."  Dawn liked having him around.  It felt safe.  It almost felt like he was here with her.  Like he never left.  Buffy saw the look between Rocco and Dawn, and it almost broke her heart.  She thought it was Spike.  But what if it wasn't?  What if it wasn't?  Buffy shook the thought from her mind, speaking once again.

"So, we had a good time tonight.  Right, Dawnie?"  Dawn looked back to her sister, Rocco's hand now on her shoulder.

"I just said I had loads of fun.  Distracted much?"  Buffy was going to kill her little sister.  She definitely wasn't making this any easier.  She stumbled for words, but Rocco spoke.

"We should do this again."

"Huh?"  She couldn't believe it.  He had accomplished in one sentence what she couldn't throughout the whole night.  He wanted to see her again.  No, this wasn't a date.

"That is, if you want to.  Cos if you didn't have as much fun as me, there's no reason for you to do this again."  His voice never wavered.  "Other than the fact that I wouldn't be adverse to the situation."  Buffy held his gaze for a moment, unsure of what to say.  What if she was wrong?  What if this wasn't the man she thought him to be?

"I want to."  What did she do?  What did she do?  She had to cover.  This wasn't a date.  Definitely not a date.  "Uh, we want to."  Buffy walked over to Dawn, her hand gently pulling Dawn to her.  "Isn't that right, Dawn?"  Dawn decided to help her sister out.

"Oh, definitely."  Buffy's hand gently squeezed Dawn's, thanking her for the support.

"Well, it's a date, then."  Oh, no.  He thought it was a date.  Would it be so bad if it were a date?  Buffy felt conflicted now.  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.  "How about same time, next week?"

"Do you want my number?"  Buffy was kicking herself in her head.  She was acting like a lovelorn teenager.  Rocco just stood there and chuckled.  He saw that she was nervous.  He decided to give her an easy out.

"That's okay, pet.  I'll be at the mart with the fellas if you need to get in contact."  He walked over to the both of them, grinning at Dawn.  "Weekly thing, that.  Better than an alarm clock."  Dawn smiled playfully at him.  He turned his gaze to Buffy once again.  "You want to do this again, I'll be there."  Buffy kindly smiled at the stranger that didn't really feel like one.

"Okay."

"Okay."  A shared smile between the two and then he was kneeling in front of Dawn.  "Goodnight, Dawn.  Gotta say, this turned out to be a right fine night.  Thanks for running into me."  Dawn hugged Rocco, enjoying this feeling of joy.

"Goodnight, Sp…"  She caught herself.  "Rocco."  He slowly moved away from Dawn, giving Buffy one final look.

"Goodnight, Buffy."  She smiled at him.

"Goodnight, Rocco."  He walked by the both of them, and made his way into the night.  Buffy and Dawn stood there for a moment before Dawn broke the silence.

"That was Spike.  Right?"  Buffy gently smiled at her little sister, her arm moving around her shoulder.  They started to walk as Buffy answered her.

"I don't know, Dawnie.  But I promise.  We'll figure this out."  Her look was somber now, her voice now a whisper.  "Giles will know what to do."

Dawn was already in bed when Tara got home.  Buffy was sitting in the living room, staring at the phone when she walked in.  "Still haven't called?"

Buffy turned her attention from the phone to Tara, now noticing that she had come in.  She slowly nodded her head.  "That obvious, huh?"  Buffy had pulled up a chair in front of the phone, her fingers twining in the cord.  "So, did Anya get home safely?"  Tara mischievously smiled when she heard the tint of mock concern in her voice.

"Oh, we almost didn't make it.  What, with Anya's debilitating Fresca hangover."  Buffy tried to defend herself.

"What?  I just didn't want Anya freaking out Spike…Rocco, anymore than he already was tonight."  Tara knew this was hard for Buffy.  He was almost Spike.  But what if he was?  Tara sat on the arm of the couch, watching Buffy still playing with the phone cord.

"It's weird, isn't it?"  Buffy nodded immediately.  They all knew it was odd.  But the way he acted.  It was more than a coincidence.  It had to be.  Especially with Doc essentially implying to them that he was Spike.  But they couldn't trust Doc.  That would be like Othello trusting Iago.  And everyone knew how that one turned out.  Nothing but misery and sorrow followed that union.

"That pretty much sums it up."  Buffy released the phone cord, her hands now running through her hair.  "It's not Spike.  He doesn't remember us."  Remember me, she thought to herself.  "But he acts like Spike.  Peroxide that hair; throw him in his leather coat, and presto.  Instant Spike."  Tara knew that Buffy's feelings for Spike hadn't changed.  No, that was a lie.  Buffy loved him even more now than that fateful night.  She could only imagine what turmoil she was going through right now.

"You should call Giles, then."  Tara was now at Buffy's side, gently squeezing her shoulder.  "If anyone can figure this out, it's Giles."

"What do I say, though?"  Buffy began a mock conversation for a visual aid.  "Hello, Giles?  How are you?  Oh, that's good.  By the way, can you come back to Sunnydale?  I think Spike's alive but I'm not sure if it's him.  Can you tell me if it is or not before I have an emotional breakdown?"  Buffy sighed in frustration.

"What's wrong with that?"  Buffy looked up to see Tara.  Her eyes were kind, sincere.  "That pretty much summed it up."  Buffy didn't want to call Giles.  After all the speeches he had given her about being strong and growing up without his help, she felt that she would be disappointing him.

"What if he's asleep?"  Buffy had a faint smile on her face now.  "It's like perpetual night over there.  He's definitely sleeping."

"So wake him up.  This is more important than Giles getting his beauty sleep."  Tara was now between Buffy and the phone, kneeling in front of her.  Their eyes were at the same level now.  Tara picked up the receiver and held it out in front of Buffy.  "And you know it."  Buffy gave her friend a gentle smile and took the receiver from Tara.  "I'm going to bed."  Tara walked out of the living room, leaving Buffy to the task at hand.

Buffy punched the appropriate keys, then the ringing.  After a few moments, it stopped.  "Hello, Giles?  It's Buffy."

Giles stared at the clock on the nightstand.  It was almost three in the morning.  Doing the quick math, he realized that Buffy had forgotten that it wasn't 10 P.M. where he was.  Either that, or she was in trouble.  "Hello, Buffy."

"I'm sorry to wake you, Giles.  But it's important."  Her voice was nervous, almost worried.

"What's wrong, Buffy?"  Giles flipped on the bedside lamp, his hand instinctively going for his glasses.  He swung his legs to the side of the bed, adjusting the glasses on his face.

"Could you come back to Sunnydale?"  She still hadn't answered his question.  This must be bad.

"Did something happen to Dawn?"  He stifled a yawn as he said this.  Buffy gently chuckled.

"No.  No.  Dawnie's okay.  But I don't think I am."  Giles shot to attention as soon as he heard her statement.

"Buffy, what is it?"  A moment of silence, then a quiet sob.

"It's Spike."  She still loved him.  He could hear the love in her voice.  "He's alive."  Giles was taken aback by the news.  How was that possible?  They had all seen Spike give his life to stop Willow.  "No, that's not right."  Giles was thoroughly confused now.

"Buffy.  Take your time.  Tell me everything."  Buffy sighed, then proceeded to tell Giles what had transpired that night.  The event with Doc that led to Dawn finding Rocco at the corner mart.  Buffy described Rocco's mannerisms, his appearance, everything.  After the narrative, Giles spoke.  "I see.  And you're certain that it's not an honest mistake?  Someone that just looks somewhat like Spike?"

"I'm talking twin city here, Giles.  It's Spike.  But he doesn't remember anything."  Giles took a deep breath, and then continued talking.

"Okay, then.  You did the right thing, not alerting him to his possible past.  If this is a case of repressed memory, jarring them to the surface can only be detrimental to his mental health."

"So, those psych classes did pay off."  A small chuckle from the other end.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."  He could hear Buffy sigh a breath of relief over the receiver.  "We'll figure this out, Buffy.  I promise."

"Thanks, Giles.  For everything."  Buffy felt tremendous comfort, knowing no matter what, Giles would always be there for her when she needed him most.

"Until I get there, though, stay the course.  Just treat this Rocco like he's just another ordinary fellow."

"But it's so hard."  He could hear the sorrow in her voice now.  "He looks so much like Spike.  He's a constant reminder of what I've…what we've lost."  She meant the former much more than the latter.

"You're strong, Buffy.  Stronger than anyone I've ever met.  You'll get through this."  Buffy softly laughed at this.

"Yeah, look at Buffy.  Going all mental over a Spike look-alike."

"Love does strange things, Buffy."  A moment of silence and then he spoke.  "I'll call you when I get into Sunnydale, okay?"

"Okay."

"Until then, see if this Rocco person shares any other similarities to Spike."  Buffy was unsure of what he meant.  After all, she had already told him that Rocco looked like Spike.  "You know.  Any allergies to sunlight, crosses and various other sundries."

"Oh."  Buffy laughed gently at this.

"What is it?"

"Nothing.  It's just…It's just I haven't thought of him like that in a long time."

"Like what?"  Giles was unsure what Buffy had meant.

"Like a vampire."  Buffy smiled into the receiver.  "I guess somewhere along the way I started treating him like a person."

It had been three days since she first saw him and her mind couldn't stop thinking of him.  He had Spike's attitude, he laughed like Spike.  He even smelled like Spike.  She pulled Spike's coat closer to her body as she continued her patrol through the cemetery.  It felt weird, missing him so much but seeing him standing there in front of her.  She wondered if this was some type of karmic payback for a mistake she made in an earlier life.

The night had been uneventful.  Just one vamp at the east corner, and he had been rising from the ground.  Not much of a challenge there.  She came up to the tombstone, wondering if she should stop and say hi.  What if he had really come back?  But what if he hadn't?  Buffy stood in front of Spike's tombstone, her hands in the pockets.  As she relaxed herself, considering what to say to him, a hand dropped onto her shoulder.  She instinctively grabbed the hand and flipped her would be assailant onto the ground.  Stake in hand, she began to bring it overhead.  That is, until she saw who it was.

"Rocco?!?"  She quickly slid the stake into her jacket pocket, a look of amusement on his face.  "What are you doing here?"

"Could be asking you the same question, pet."  Buffy noticed that she was straddling the man beneath her, a wave of embarrassment sweeping over her.  She quickly scrambled to her feet, offering a hand to the fallen individual.  Once on his feet, he just grinned at her.  It annoyed her to no end.

"I asked first."  Buffy noticed that he was wearing more typical Spike garb.  A black tee shirt coupled with a pair of blue jeans and…sneakers?  Okay, maybe not that typical.  She stood in front of him, waiting patiently for an answer.

"Alright.  Just taking a shortcut home."  Buffy gave him an amused smile.

"Through the cemetery?"

"Yeah.  What's wrong with that?"

"You are new to Sunnydale, aren't you?"  Rocco gently fussed with his hair.  That was another difference.  He didn't use that hair gel that Spike usually did.  That, and it was brownish blonde.  Buffy could see Spike with that hair, her hands gently running through it, her lips…She spoke again before she got lost in her thoughts.  "Don't you know that it's dangerous out here at night?  Especially in the cemetery?"  Rocco gave her a gentle smile for her concern.

"Let me guess?  Vampires and other such denizens roam the streets of Sunny D, thus making it 'dangerous'…"  He made quotation marks in the air as to emphasize dangerous.  "For the local folk to take a quick stroll at night."  Buffy gave him a quizzical look.

"Then you're strolling through the cemetery because you want to get noshed on?"  Rocco gently chuckled.

"No worries, luv."  He walked over to Buffy, standing next to her, wondering what she was looking at before he interrupted her.  "I can take care of myself."  Buffy was about to ask what he meant, but he spoke before she could.  "So, who's this?  Family member?"  Buffy looked back to the headstone, her stomach doing back flips.  It wouldn't hurt, telling him.

"Something like that.  He was very close to me."  Rocco noted the hint of sorrow in her voice.

"Oh.  Hubby?  Or boyfriend?"  Buffy didn't know how to answer that.  After all, her relationship with Spike hadn't been normal in all sense of the word.  They had been intimate when she came back from the dead.  But she only began to love him when he was taken from her.

"He knew me better than I knew myself."  Rocco decided to leave it alone.  He read the epithet aloud.

"Spike.  Cherished friend.  Fierce protector.  Always a hero."  Rocco stepped back, the words sinking in.  "Wow, musta been a helluva guy."  Buffy giggled at this.  "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing."  Just seeing the Spike look-alike complimenting Spike seemed a bit weird to her.  It only made things weirder because Rocco sounded sincere when he said it.

"Hmm.  No dates.  Any reason?"  Buffy turned away from the headstone and to Rocco.

"He didn't like people knowing how old he was."  It was a lie, but at least it was believable.  Having to answer questions about buying a plot for a tombstone was trouble enough without explaining the discrepancy in the birth/death dates.

"Ah.  Okay."  Rocco noticed that Buffy was somewhere else now.  Probably thinking about this Spike bloke.  Even though he enjoyed standing here with her, he knew it was wrong.  She should be allowed to grieve in peace.  "Well, I'll be going then.  Leave you two to talk and such."  He began to walk away, but her voice stopped him.

"It's okay.  I can be alone with you here."  Why did that sound so familiar, he wondered to himself.  He began to walk back to her position, but a loud growl from the side caught his attention instead.  They both turned their gaze to the source of the sound, seeing four vamps closing on them.  Buffy was about to tell Rocco to run, but he interrupted her.

"Run and get help, luv."  Buffy was already pulling her stake out once again when Rocco charged the group.

"Hey, wait!"  Buffy ran after Rocco as he dove into the fray.  A roundhouse sent one vamp flying into the one behind him.  He swiftly dodged another's fist, grabbing his arm and snapping it deftly in two.  The vampire was now on his knees, howling in pain.  The fourth lunged at Rocco, but a quick uppercut, and the vampire was airborne, eventually crashing into a tombstone.  Needless to say, Buffy was speechless.  He even fought like Spike.  Rocco turned around to see Buffy standing there, stake in hand.

"Got a spare, pet?"  Buffy nodded as she tossed him the one in her hand.  She pulled another one from the jacket pocket as Rocco spun around, impaling the kneeling vamp in the chest.  The two that were grounded by his roundhouse had gathered themselves up and were now rushing him.  Buffy jumped in front of them, skillfully sweeping both off their feet with one graceful spin kick.  She staked the one on the left while the one on the right pounced on her.  The stake was knocked out of her hand, Buffy now struggling with the vamp on top of her.  A low blow to the family jewels with her knee and the vamp was agonizing in pain, curled in a fetal position.  Buffy rolled toward the stake, clutching it.  She back flipped onto her feet, knelt down by the vamp and dusted him.

She turned around to see Rocco sparring with the final vampire.  She made her way over to him to lend an assist, but found out that he was handling rather well.  The vamp threw a forward kick toward Rocco.  However, Rocco spun out of the way, the vampire's back now to him.  A quick stake plunge into the vamp's back, and dust flew into the wind.  Rocco smoothed his hands across his shirt, noting that it had gone from black to a spotted black.  Buffy walked up to him as he did this.  He knew what would be coming next.

"How'd you do that?"

"Could ask you the same thing…"

"Enough games.  Who are you?"  Buffy knew that she shouldn't be prying this much.  If this was Spike, mentally repressed Spike, what she was doing now was the most dangerous thing she could do.  Rocco just smiled at her.

"Told ya.  Name's Rocco."  Buffy was about to retort, but the next words silenced her.  "And based on your performance, I'd fancy you're the Slayer.  Innit right, pet?"  Buffy was shaken by the news.  How could he have possibly known?  It wasn't like Slayers advertised in the yellow pages.

"I don't know what you're talking about."  Buffy shoved her hands into the jacket pockets, a look of anger mixed with denial now evident on her face.

"Right.  You just happen to stroll the cemetery with stakes."

"This is a rough city.  With the monster life and all."  She shot him a smirk.  "But, you already knew that, didn't you?"  She was about to continue her interrogation of his abilities when the arrow hit him square in the shoulder.

"Oww!  Bloody hell!"  Rocco fell to his knee, Buffy following.  She gripped his arm while looking in the direction of the arrow's path.  She saw a lowly vampire clutching a crossbow.  However, when he saw that the person he had shot at was the Slayer, he dropped the weapon and ran off into the night, tail tucked between his legs.  Buffy looked back to Rocco.

"You okay?"  He winced when she touched his shoulder.  "I'm sorry."

"S'okay.  Just pull it out."  Buffy saw the look on his face.  He meant business.  She nodded and put her hand on his shoulder to brace him.  Her other hand quickly pulled it out, blood spurting from the wound.  "Arrrr!"  Rocco put his hand against the wound, applying pressure to slow the flow of blood.  Buffy helped him to his feet.

"Come on, I have to get that looked at."  Buffy gently pulled on his arm, forcing him to walk.

"Luv, I'm okay.  I think I should go home and rest up."  Buffy shook her head.  She couldn't take the chance that something else might hurt Spike.  Rocco.  She was still having trouble discerning between the two.

"No debate.  You're coming home with me.  Now."  Rocco chuckled.

"Buffy.  I know it's only been a dinner, but do you think I should be coming home with ya so soon?"  Buffy shot him an irritated glance.  He may not be Spike, but he sure knew how to push her buttons.

"You know, you can be a jerk when you want to be."  They both laughed as Rocco followed Buffy out of the cemetery.

"Trust me, pet.  I can be a right bastard, given proper circumstances."  Neither one said a word.  Just a shared smile as they walked.

 Dawn was sitting next to him as Buffy sat on the coffee table, examining the wound.  The arrow hadn't gone in deep, no major arteries hit.  But it still needed to be cleaned and bandaged.  Tara came down the stairs, carrying disinfectant, cotton swabs and some cotton bandages cradled in her arm.

"Oww!  Don't touch it."  Buffy moved her hand away, smiling meekly.  "You trying to open it more?"  Dawn stifled a laugh.  "Oh, you find that funny, bit?  Next time you get cut, I get to fiddle with it."  Dawn stuck out her tongue playfully as Tara placed the medicinal items on the coffee table.  Buffy grabbed the disinfectant and motioned to Rocco.  "What?"

"Take your shirt off."  Dawn and Tara smiled at one another when she said this.  Rocco looked a bit shocked by her forwardness himself.

"I'm not gonna take my shirt off."

"Then how am I supposed to clean and bandage the wound?"  Buffy was frustrated now.  He was acting like a baby.

"I dunno."  He then looked at Tara and Dawn.  "But I'm not taking my shirt off so you three can make fun of my chest."  Tara couldn't help but smile.  He was too cute when he was nervous.  Tara decided to help him out.

"Um, Dawn.  Wanna go grab an ice cream?"  Dawn didn't get the hint.

"No, I wanna see Rocco's manly wound."  Buffy and Rocco both shot her a glance.  Tara smiled awkwardly, trying her gambit once again.

"You sure, Dawnie?  Dairy goodness."  Dawn finally caught on, getting up from the couch.

"You know, that's sounding like a good idea all of a sudden."  Tara grabbed her purse while Dawn walked by Buffy.  Buffy gently squeezed her sister's hand.

"Not too much.  Don't want you hyper and jumping all over the place."  Dawn smiled back at her.

"Don't worry.  I won't."  She turned back to Rocco.  "Have fun, you two."  And with that, Tara and Dawn left them in the living room.

"Now.  Off with the shirt."

"If I didn't know you better, Slayer, I'd say you wanted my shirt off."  She sat still for a moment.  He just called her Slayer.  Just like Spike.  And he sounded just as cocky.  "Buffy.  I was kidding, luv."  He stirred her back to reality.

"Oh, I know you were.  Kidding."  She looked down, dabbing the cotton swab with the disinfectant.  Rocco knew that he said something to upset her, so he decided to ease off on the chatter.  He removed his shirt, dropping it to the floor.  Unfortunately, Buffy didn't hear him take off the shirt.  She looked upward, her eyes falling on his exposed torso, chest.  She couldn't help but blush.

"Happy?  Shirt's off.  Commence with the giggles and laughter."  She couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Umm.  Happy."  Buffy swabbed the cut gently, her eyes tracing over his chest.  He felt so familiar, every contour of his chest so familiar to her.  Her concentration was beginning to falter.  That was evident when she accidentally dug into Rocco's wound with the swab.

"Oww!  You are trying to kill me."

"Oh, God!  I'm so sorry!"  Buffy found her hand instinctively falling onto his, squeezing it gently.  She noticed it, but it was too late to pull back.  "Umm, I'm sorry."  Rocco nodded at her, noticing that she was back in nervous mode.

"Honest mistake."  He smiled gently at her, feeling her hand leaving his.  He missed the touch already.  She picked up one of the bandages and peeled the adhesive covering from it.  She gently placed it on his back, touching the corners so it remained fastened.  She was bending over him, Rocco leaning forward, his face mere inches from her shoulder, her hair brushing against his cheek.  God, but she smelled like Heaven.

"There.  All better."  She moved back slowly, moving back to look at him.  As she did, she noticed that he was looking at her. Their eyes locked.  "What?"  She was whispering now.

"Nothing."  His eyes never wavered from hers.

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"  She found herself moving closer to him, her eyes focusing intently on his gaze.

"Like…like…"  She felt her lips on his.  His hand was now gently grasping the base of her neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss.  Buffy's hand was now in his hair, the other one dropping the bottle of disinfectant onto the floor.  She softly moaned into his mouth, feeling his tongue grazing against hers.

"Mmm, luv."  His voice startled her back to consciousness.  It was too much.  She gently pushed him away.

"Mmm, no.  No."  She looked into his eyes, seeing only confusion and something else.  Something familiar.  "I can't…I can't do this."  Rocco slowly moved his hand from her neck, gently squeezing her shoulder.

"It's okay, luv.  Was entirely my fault.  I shouldn't have pushed."  He was being polite.  She had kissed him.  He had just reciprocated in kind.  She kindly smiled at him.

"It's not you.  It's…"  Her head was now bowing down, as if in shame.

"Spike."  He was just like Spike.  He knew exactly what she was thinking.  Even before she did.

"Yeah."

"You loved him, didn't you?"  He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  She looked back up, seeing that he was smiling at her, his eyes gentle.

"More than I realized."  A moment of silence while they stared into each other's gaze.  Rocco decided to break the silence before something else happened.

"Well, I'm a might tired.  I should be getting home."  He started to get up, but felt Buffy's hand once again on his.

"No chance.  This is your home tonight."  He was moved by the sentiment.  He had just met this woman, and she was making him feel things that he'd never felt before.  All he could do was softly chuckle.

"Okay.  Can't ignore the wisdom of the Slayer."  She was still unclear about how he knew what she was, but she decided to leave it alone for now.

"Let me get you some pillows and a blanket."  Buffy moved away from him, her eyes turning away from his still naked chest.  He caught the awkward look and grinned at her.

"Still waiting for the jokes, luv."  Buffy stifled a laugh.

"Maybe tomorrow."  She went up the stairs to get the pillows and blanket.  As well as splash some cold water on her face.

Buffy looked at her bedside clock when she heard the knock.  It was almost seven in the A.M.  Whoever it was, she would have to hurt.  Violently.  She threw her robe around her and stumbled down the stairs.  As she opened the door, she moved from sleepy Buffy to ecstatic Buffy.  "Why didn't you call?"  She threw her arms around Giles' neck.

"Sorry.  Didn't want to bother you this early."

"Hate to break it to you, Watcher man, but you just did."  Giles smiled at her as she broke the embrace.

"Guess I did at that.  I'll have to get accustomed to this time again."

"U.S. time?"  Giles smirked at her as he brought his bags into the house.

"Buffy time."  Buffy closed the door behind him, giving Giles an insulted look.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you missed me."  Giles sat on the couch, Buffy joining him.

"That obvious, is it?"  Buffy gently rested her head against his shoulder.

"I'm glad you came, Giles."  He could hear the weariness in her voice.  He'd always come to her aid.  Always.

"So, where do we find this mysterious stranger that has you fretting?"  That's when it hit her.  They were sitting on the couch.  The same couch that she had left Rocco sleeping on.  Maybe he had left early, with the sun and all.  But then she saw it.  His shirt was still on the ground, his sneakers right next to them.

"Oh, God!  Get up, Giles!"  Giles quickly got off the couch, unclear of why.  Buffy glanced at the windows.  The large, well lit windows.  Her eyes scanned the couch, looking for any remnants of dust.

"What is it, Buffy?"

"He was here.  He was right here."  He could sense the worry in her voice now.  Then he pieced together what she was thinking.

"Right.  And with the sun up, you think he's…"  A noise from the kitchen.  Buffy walked to the noise, Giles following on her heels.  The back door was cracked open, sunlight pouring into the kitchen.  Buffy swung the door open, not expecting the sight in front of her.  Rocco was sitting on the back steps, smoking a cigarette.  That would have been normal, but for the fact that he was bathed in sunlight.  And he wasn't on fire.  And he looked so beautiful, the sunlight dancing off him.  Almost like an angel.

"Oh, my."  Giles finally saw the figure Buffy had described over the telephone.  She was right.  He looked just like Spike, except for the foppish hair.  Rocco turned around, startled by the commotion.

"Hello, luv.  Thought it best to do my smoking outside.  Don't wanna cover your nice home with smoke and what not.  Who's your friend?"  They just stood there, looking at him as though he was out of place, never saying a word.  "What?  Oh, God.  You're gonna make fun of my girlish chest now, aren't you?"

To be continued 


	5. Private Practice

Title:  Private Practice

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Some violence and angst)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike, Dawn/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to Forever and After Life.

Summary:  Fifth part of Falling into You series.  

Status:  Finished (Part V of ?)

They just stood there, watching him as he blathered something about his chest.  Finally, Buffy spoke.  "Um, no.  I'm not here to make fun of you, Rocco."  The look of insecurity had left his face, now replaced by one of relief.

"Well, that's good.  Don't know if I could deal with verbal abuse so soon after the physical."  Buffy noted that the bandage on his back was seeping with blood in the middle.  She bent down next to him to get a better look.

"You should come inside.  I should change that."  Rocco felt her fingers run over the piece of cotton affixed to his back.  He grinned sheepishly as she did this.  "Yeah, I guess.  I'm done with my fag, anyway."  He ground the cigarette onto the floorboard of the deck and proceeded to get up.  "So, you gonna tell me who your friend is, or do I have to guess?"  Buffy realized that Giles was still standing in the kitchen door, amazement still painted on his face.

"Oh, this is…"  A suitable cover story flashed into her head.  "This is my doctor."  She motioned to Giles as Rocco stood next to her.  "Dr. Giles."  They both stood there for a moment, Giles trying to comprehend what had just happened.  He looked to Buffy, and noticed what she was trying to do.  Smart girl.  Very smart girl.

"Oh, yes.  Hello."  He extended his hand to Rocco as a kind gesture.  He half expected the fellow standing in front of him to eye him suspiciously, but instead, Rocco took his hand in a forceful handshake.

"Nice to meet you Dr. Giles.  Let me guess.  The li'l lady rang you up 'cos she was worried about my wound, innit right?"  Giles was still getting accustomed to him.  He looked like Spike.  He even sounded as arrogant and cocky as Spike.  But there was something different as well.  Something other than the fact he could stand in the sunlight and not explode like a ball of semtex.

"Yes.  Very right.  That's a nasty wound you've got there, young man."  Giles moved away from the doorjamb, allowing Buffy and Rocco to move back inside.  "Come back inside so I can run some tests on you."  He shouldn't have used the 't' word.  Rocco now shot him that suspicious look he expected earlier.

"For a flesh wound?"  Buffy saw that Giles was stumbling for words.  She decided to help him.

"You know.  Tetanus.  Excessive blood loss.  Stuff like that."  Buffy gently nudged Rocco back into the kitchen as he continued to look at Giles.

"That's correct.  Can't be too careful, you know."  Rocco sighed softly, noting the worried look in Buffy's eyes.

"Alright then.  Let's get this over with."  Rocco moved past them into the living room while Buffy and Giles stood in the kitchen for a moment.  Giles finally spoke.

"Amazing."  Buffy smiled.

"That's what I've been saying."  Giles returned the smile.

"Well, we should get in there and try to figure out what we've got here."  As they moved into the living room, Buffy remembered Rocco's wound.  As they stepped into the living room, Rocco was sitting in a chair, his fingers thrumming against the armrest.

"I'll be right back with a new bandage.  In the meantime, Dr. Giles is going to have a look at you."  Buffy noted the look of discomfort Rocco had on his face, so she decided to assuage his fears.  "He's the best.  Nothing bad's gonna happen."  Rocco caught her smile, returning a small grin.

"I trust you, luv."  She walked up the stairs, leaving her Watcher to begin putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

Buffy didn't come down the stairs alone.  Following her was both Dawn and Tara.  As Buffy came into sight of the living room, she saw that Giles was sitting in front of Rocco.  He was rummaging through one of his bags, pulling out various objects.  As the group came closer, she saw what the objects were.  On the coffee table there lay a couple of vials of holy water as well as a bottle of essence of garlic.  Gee, Giles, why didn't you just pull out the cross while you were…too late.  There it was.  The three ladies stepped into the living room, Buffy moving toward Rocco while Dawn and Tara went over to greet Giles.

"Hi, Giles."  Dawn wrapped her arms around Giles' neck, her head on his shoulder.  "How's London?"  Giles chuckled.

"Oh, you know.  Dark and dreary."

"So, you're having fun, then?"  Dawn moved back to face Giles, a smile on her face.

"Yes.  I guess I am."  He got up from the chair and moved toward Tara.

"Hi, Giles."  She was nervous.  She was always nervous around him.  He didn't know why, but he thought it was rather adorable.

"Hello, Tara."  He put his arms out, Tara instinctively moving into them.  "How are you doing?"  He knew she was also going through a tough time, with Willow's betrayal and medical condition.

"I'm okay.  One day at a time, you know?"  He did.  Everyone had been affected by that cold March night in the cemetery.  Everyone had suffered.  Tara most of all.

"I know."  He continued holding her as Buffy tended to Rocco.  Dawn moved over to see what they were doing.

"So, I see she got your shirt off?"  Dawn was giggling as she said this.  Buffy and Rocco shot her a nervous glance.

"Funny, bit.  Real funny."  Buffy was now sitting next to him, her fingers gently pulling the bandage away from his skin.  She felt it best to be in this position for two reasons.  One, she had better access to the bandage.  And two, she didn't have to look into his eyes as she pulled away this time.

"Hold still.  This might hurt a little."  Rocco turned his head to face her.  He nodded at her, smiling gently.  There went reason number two.  She eased the used bandage off his skin.  She couldn't help but notice that the cut was much smaller than it was the night before.  In fact, it was almost nonexistent.  She gently ran her fingers over the cut, noting that there was no visible scarring around the reduced wound.  She felt Rocco jerk as she did this.  She smiled gently to herself.  He must be ticklish, just like Spike.

Giles moved over to the scene, Tara right behind him.  He grabbed the essence from the table and gave it to Buffy.  "Um, before you apply the bandage."  Buffy noted the bottle, wondering if she should really be doing this.  What if it did hurt him?  Giles sensed the hesitation and decided to soothe her doubt.  "It won't hurt him.  It's just essence."

"It better not hurt, doc.  It's only a cut."  Buffy turned back to Rocco, seeing that he was a bit more relaxed now.  She gently squeezed his shoulder.

"Ready?"  Rocco gave her a puzzled look.

"Yeah, luv.  You look spooked.  It's just medicine.  It's not gonna hurt me, tell her Giles."  Giles nodded but Buffy still felt awkward, testing him like this.  She took a deep breath as she opened the bottle.  Rocco never took his eyes off her.  She liked the attention, but it made her feel uncomfortable at the same time.  Maybe if they were alone.  She shook the thought from her mind and slowly poured the powder over his wound, her eyes squinting as though she were in pain.  However, once the powder touched his skin without effect, she felt much better.  But still confused.  It hadn't hurt him.  So, he wasn't a vampire.  He wasn't Spike.  Maybe another test?

"Giles, can you pass me the antiseptic."  At first, he had no idea what she was talking about.  Where was he supposed to find antiseptic?  She motioned to the vials of holy water.  Giles picked up on what she was trying to do and grabbed one of the vials.  Rocco noted the bit of confusion, his mind beginning to mull over the situation.  As Buffy dabbed the cotton bandage with holy water, Rocco spoke.

"So, Dr. Giles.  What field of medicine you specialize in, if you don't mind me asking."  Giles was taken aback by the question.  After all, he really didn't know that much about medicine.  Demons and prophecies, that he knew.  Rocco saw that he was fumbling for an answer.  Didn't matter.  He just got his.

"Uh, pediatrics.  You know.  Love helping the little ones."  Giles wondered if that came out wrong but kept on talking.  "Dawn is one of my favorite patients.  Isn't that right?"  Dawn played along.

"Yeah.  I always get good marks when I see him."  Rocco didn't say anything.  He just smiled.  Buffy noted the smile, wondering what he was thinking.

"So, I'm guessing the girls don't get sick that often then?"  Giles had no idea what he was talking about.  "You know, given the fact that you flew all the way from London."  Buffy finally knew what he was thinking.  He saw through the charade.  "And don't even get me started on how ludicrous it is for a doctor, from London no less, to fly all the way to California, just to tend to a flesh wound."  Giles shook his head in disbelief.  He was just like Spike.

"Okay, I'm not their doctor."  Tara decided to try and lighten the situation.

"I'm in the mood for waffles.  Anyone else for waffles?"  Her request fell on deaf ears, the situation getting tenser by the moment.  Buffy fastened the bandage onto Rocco's back, noting that he was tense.  She had to defuse the situation.

"This isn't what it looks like."  He turned to her, Dawn and Tara still standing beside Giles.

"Oh, good.  Because it looked like your Watcher was trying to run some tests on me."  Buffy froze.  How did he know so much?  Giles spoke.

"Ex-Watcher."  Giles turned to Tara.  "Could you take Dawn into the kitchen?  We need to talk."  Tara nodded.  She felt uncomfortable enough as it was.  Going into the kitchen seemed like a good idea right about now.  Dawn, on the other hand, didn't think so.

"Hey, I wanna listen too."  Buffy turned to her sister, a look of concern on her face.

"Dawnie.  Please."  Dawn saw that her sister meant business, so she conceded.

"Fine.  I need breakfast anyway before I go to school."  She walked past Giles, looking back at Rocco.  "See you later."  Rocco shot her a grin.

"Not if I see you first, niblet."  Dawn walked into the kitchen, Tara looking at Buffy on the couch with Rocco.

"I'll take Dawnie to school today.  Looks like you guys are gonna be a while."  Buffy gently smiled at her friend.

"Thanks, Tara.  I appreciate this."  Tara returned the smile and walked into the kitchen.

"So, Dawnie.  You ready for some waffles?"  Buffy turned back to Giles, wondering what he'd say.  Unfortunately, he seemed lost in thought.  After an awkward silence, Rocco spoke.

"So, you gonna finish the tests, or am I free to go?"  Giles looked back to Rocco, a hint of annoyance washing over him.  He definitely acted like Spike.

"How do you know about the Slayer and the Watcher Council?"  Rocco sat there, a gentle look on his face.  He was being serious now.

"Lot o' things I know.  Problem is, I'm not sure how."  Buffy could see that he was telling the truth.  He never wavered in his voice or his gaze.

"And what makes you think you can trust us?"  Giles was still unsure of this conundrum sitting in front of him.  He had to be sure this person didn't prove a threat to Buffy.  After all she'd suffered in the past few years, this would push her over the edge.

"Dunno.  Got a feeling, is all."  He was looking at Buffy as he said this.  She returned his smile.  "So, I let you run these tests."  He got up from the couch, now standing in front of Giles.  "Any chance you can help me with my problem?"  Giles saw the sincerity on his face.

"We'll see what we can do."

Dawn had just stepped out of the door with Tara when Giles placed the cross in front of Rocco.  "What do you want me to do with that?"  Buffy was now descending the stairs, all dressed and ready for a new day when she saw what Giles had done.  She made her way back into the living room, standing with Giles.

"Yeah.  What do you want him to do with that?"  Rocco smiled at Buffy.  At least someone was on his side.  Somewhat, anyway.

"Buffy, we have to make sure.  He hasn't touched it yet."  The wheels in Rocco's head began to turn.

"So, what?  You think I'm a vampire?"  Buffy and Giles turned to face him, Buffy somewhat sorry that he had put his shirt back on.  She liked shirtless Spike.  Rocco.  She was confusing the two once again.

"Well, there was the fight in the cemetery."  Rocco was tying his sneakers, not looking at her now.

"So, I toss a few wankers and that automatically makes me a vamp?"  He moved to the other sneaker.  "Ever think that I could be a Slayer, like you?"  Giles softly chuckled.  He wanted to be good.  How Spike, he thought to himself.  "What's so bloody funny, Rupert."  Giles steeled himself.  He turned to Buffy.

"Did you tell him my first name?"  Buffy shook her head.  He turned back to Rocco, who was now sitting upright on the couch, his hands on his knees.  "How did you know my name then?"  Rocco searched for an answer, finding that one wasn't forthcoming.

"Huh.  Not sure.  Probably overheard it in conversation."  He knew that wasn't it.  He hadn't met this man until today.  But here he was, calling him by his first name.  Buffy spoke.

"We've only spoken the few times.  And I've never mentioned Giles."  Buffy was worried and hopeful at the same time.  She was worried about what was going through Rocco's mind right now.  But she was hopeful that the knowledge of Giles' first name would be some indication that this was indeed Spike sitting in front of them.

"Well, I don't know.  I just…I just knew."  Rocco ran his hands through his hair, the brownish blonde hair falling over his forehead, his ears.  Giles could see that he was frustrated.

"We'll worry about that later.  Just pick up the cross, if you can."  Rocco turned his sight to the Watcher and the Slayer.  He nodded his head.  His hand reached out to the wooden cross.  Buffy held her breath, awaiting the result.  His hand clutched the base of the cross, Rocco holding it out to Giles.

"Happy?"  Giles took the cross from Rocco and placed it back into his bag.  Buffy could see that Giles was confused by the results.  He was muttering to himself now.

"Test of strength."  Buffy responded.

"What's that, Giles?"  Giles turned to face Buffy.

"Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you last night.  Maybe he got lucky.  Maybe…"  Buffy interrupted him.

"Maybe he broke a vampire's arm, kicked one into another, and punched one six feet into the air?"  Rocco couldn't help but smile.  She had been taking notes.  Giles took off his glasses, rubbing them with his shirttail.

"Well, yes.  That's another possibility."  Rocco knew that he wouldn't believe her unless he saw it for himself.  He got up from the couch and walked over to Giles.  Buffy was about to say something but Rocco's action left her speechless.  He grabbed Giles' jacket by the collar with his right hand and proceeded to lift him up.  Giles looked at him in awe, his feet dangling in the air.

"Good enough?"  Giles nodded.

"Good enough."  Rocco slowly placed the Watcher back on the ground, shooting a grin at Buffy.  She couldn't help but smile back.  He could be a jerk if he wanted to be.  "So, you have the strength of a vampire, but none of their weaknesses."  Giles placed his glasses back on his face, contemplating where to go from here.  He walked over to his bag, rummaging for something.  Buffy walked closer to Rocco, wanting to know if he was handling the situation okay.

"How you doing?"  Rocco smiled gently at her.

"Other than the fact I'm being treated like a guinea pig?  Just peachy."  Buffy's hand gently found its way around his, gently squeezing it.  "And to top it off, you're seeing me at my worst.  I haven't had a chance to do my morning duties yet."  Buffy eyed him curiously.

"You mean a shower?"

"Among other things."  He ran his hand across his face.  Buffy finally noticed it.  She didn't know why she didn't see it before.  Maybe because she never had to before.  Her hand went to his face; slowly grazing its way across his soft, yet rough skin.  Rough?

"You have stubble."  Rocco wasn't sure where she was going with this.

"Well, yeah.  Haven't had a chance to shave yet."  Buffy's eyes grew wider, her excitement seizing control of her.  She put her hand over his mouth, feeling it.  He was breathing.  She had to make sure.  She placed her ear against his chest, startling Rocco.

"Luv, don't think this is the time, with Rupert in the room…"

"Shh."  Giles finally found the text he was looking for.  When he turned around, he didn't expect to see what he did.

"Buffy.  What are you doing?"  Buffy waved her hand at Giles, motioning him to be quiet.  She listened closely, both men remaining quiet.  After adjusting her ear against Rocco's chest, she found what she was looking for.  The rhythm was distinct.  "What is it, Buffy?"  She moved away from Rocco, smiling maniacally.

"A heartbeat.  He has a heartbeat."  Giles didn't realize the text had dropped from his hand until it landed on his foot.

"I don't know why I didn't consider it."  Giles was now sitting down in the armchair, his injured foot up on the coffee table.  "A human."  He shook his head, taking another gulp of brandy that Buffy had gotten him to calm his nerves.  He placed the glass back onto the coaster, his hand massaging the bridge of his nose.  Rocco was sitting on the couch adjacent to Giles, Buffy next to him.

"Can't be sure I am."  Giles gave him a quizzical look.  "Human, that is.  After all, how many humans can do the things I can."

"I can."  The two men turned to see Buffy with her hand up, smiling playfully.

"Point.  But that's because you're the Slayer."  Rocco bent his head down slightly, frustration setting in once again.  "What does that make me?"  He felt Buffy's hand over his, her voice calling to him.

"Human."  She could see his lips curve upward even though he was still looking downward.  She would have to be content with that.  She turned to Giles.  "So, what now?"  Giles slowly placed his foot back onto the ground, wincing as he did so.

"Honestly?  I don't know."  He grabbed the text by the foot of the chair, slowly lifting it up to the coffee table.  "I was going to perform a sense spell, to see what he was…is.  But since we already know…"  He eyed the book with disdain, the pain still throbbing in his foot.

"This could be a memory thing, right?"  Giles's gaze moved from the text to Buffy.  Rocco was now looking at her as well.

"Could very well be."

"So, what about hypnosis?"  The question hung in the air for a while.  It almost dissipated until Rocco spoke.

"I'm game."  Giles was going to initially reject the idea.  Hypnosis really wasn't that reliable.  And whatever information they did get might not be that valid.  However, they had come to a dead end.  He conceded.

"Very well.  Let's begin."

Rocco sat in the armchair now, Giles on the coffee table.  He held out a gold pocket watch, slowly dangling it in front of him.  Buffy stood behind Giles, her arms crossed about her chest.  Giles began swinging the watch slowly in front of Rocco.  His gaze never left the watch as he relaxed into the chair.

"Okay.  Focus on the watch.  There's nothing else here but the watch.  No Buffy.  No Giles.  No outside world.  Just the watch."  Rocco didn't speak, his eyes following the glimmering watch.  His eyelids were beginning to droop.  Buffy was concerned.  What if this didn't work?  What if something wrong happened?  What if Spike only got back his evil memories?  She shook her head.  She wasn't even sure if this was Spike.

Rocco's grip on the armrests began to relax.  Buffy could see that he was falling under the Watcher's thrall.  "Good.  I'm going to count from ten to one.  When I snap my fingers, you will be relaxed.  At peace."  Rocco didn't answer.  His eyes continued their lock on the pocket watch.  "Ten.  Nine.  Eight."  The world began to fade away from Rocco's perception.  Giles and Buffy were fading away into blackness, only the watch remaining.  The living room faded into darkness, the watch glinting at him as it swayed back and forth.  The Watcher's voice sounded muted now.  He wasn't sure what he was saying until he heard it.  A loud snap.  Then Rocco was alone.  Nothing around him.  Not even the watch.

Buffy looked concerned, noting that Rocco was breathing shallowly.  He looked almost peaceful.  Giles, seeing that Rocco was in the trance, began.  "I'm going to ask you some questions now.  Nod your head if you understand."  Rocco did.  "Good.  Let's begin.  What's your name?"  Giles waited, hoping that the information they got from this session would be useful.

"Rocco."  Buffy's hopeful look turned to one of disappointment.  He didn't remember.  "No.  William."  Giles eyebrow rose slightly.  Double persona?  He continued on.

"What is the first thing you remember?"  Rocco seemed uncomfortable now, his brow furrowed.  Buffy could see the pain on his face.

"Red light.  Yellow light.  Purple light."  Giles didn't know what he meant.

"Can you go into more detail?"

"Black eyes."  Rocco was now struggling, his hands tensing against the fabric of the armrests.  "Red hair."  Buffy finally realized what he was talking about.  He was remembering the battle with Willow.  He was remembering his own death.  Spike was remembering the last moments of his life.  She leaned closely to Giles' ear, whispering.

"Willow."  Giles nodded.  He also realized what Rocco was talking about.  What Spike was talking about.  He continued with the questions.

"What else do you remember?"

"Blood.  Tears."  Rocco looked as pained as he sounded now.  "Pain.  Dawn."  Buffy sighed almost in relief.  He remembered Dawn.  Her relief quickly subsided when she saw the tear trickling from Rocco's eye.  He was in pain.  Giles didn't notice.  "Couldn't keep my promise.  Couldn't save her."  His eyes were squinted now, as though he didn't want to see what his mind was showing him.  Buffy didn't want him to suffer anymore.

"Giles.  We should stop."  Giles waved his hand at Buffy, knowing that they were making progress.

"Whom couldn't you save?"  A moment of silence as Spike fought for words.

"Dawn."  Buffy hadn't realized that her eyes were swelling with tears.  "Buffy.  Couldn't save them."  She put her hand to her mouth.  He remembered the tower.  He remembered Glory.

"Go back to Dawn.  Why couldn't you save her?"  Buffy found Giles tone now cold, unfeeling.  Almost as if he was one of those Council bastards.

"Red.  Hellgate.  Dawn."  He was no longer speaking coherently, spouting out words, ideas that rattled in his head.  "God, the blood.  So much blood."  Spike felt pained saying the words, his tears coming faster now.  "Dawn.  Her throat."  Buffy flashed back to that night.  The night where Drusilla had killed Dawn.  The night that Willow lost herself.

"What next?"  Giles was scribbling down some notes now.  Buffy couldn't help but hate him now.  Spike was in pain, and he was writing down notes like he was in a college lecture.

"Pain.  So much pain.  Body hurting.  Body screaming."  Buffy could see Spike's hands were now digging into the armrests, his feet pushing against the floor.  "Buffy.  Smiling.  Crying."  She felt a lump in her throat.  He remembered dying.  In her arms.  A tear trickled down her face.

"Tell me about the pain."  Buffy shot Giles a look that would stop a bloodthirsty vampire in its tracks.  Unfortunately, Giles wasn't looking at her.  His attention was solely on the man in front of him.  Spike.

"Body pulling itself apart.  Too much.  Can't handle that much."  He was gasping now, his breath ragged, his brow covered with sweat.  Buffy couldn't stand to see him like this.

"Giles, stop this."  No response from the Watcher this time.  Rocco continued with his broken words.

"Buffy.  Buffy.  Buffy."  He was crying now, tears freely flowing.  "Dawn."  He remained silent.  Giles decided to ask another question.

"What happened after Dawn?"  Spike's tears slowed.  His demeanor was now one of confusion.

"Dark.  Cold.  Hard."

"Where are you now?"  Giles almost sounded fascinated.  He had remembered Spike dying, the remaining energy flowing into Dawn, reviving her.  But this.  This was new.

"Bars.  I think I see bars."  Spike reached his hand out, like he was trying to grab something, but before he could, he fell back in pain.  He screamed out in anguish, his body shaking in the chair.  Buffy wanted this to stop.  Even if they didn't know what had happened, Spike had gone through enough.  He shouldn't have to live through his death again.  Her hand came down on Giles' shoulder.

"Stop this.  Now!"  Giles nodded, still surprised by Spike's reaction.

"Spike!  When I snap my fingers again, you'll awake!"  Giles snapped his fingers, nothing happening.  Buffy moved to Spike, trying to hold him down before he hurt himself.

"Giles!"  As Buffy struggled to keep Spike steady, Giles realized what he had done wrong.

"Rocco!  When I snap my fingers, you'll awake!"  One more time and Spike relaxed in Buffy's grasp.  His spasms began to slow.  He slowly opened his eyes, his body slouching into the cushions.  Buffy moved to Spike's side, her hand on his cheek.  She was the first thing he saw.  He couldn't help but smile.

"So, did I say anything interesting?"  Buffy's heart dropped.  He hadn't remembered anything.  She was so close to getting him back.  But she couldn't put him through that pain again.  She shot him a small smile, the sadness still in the back of her mind.

"Lots."  Giles decided to intervene before Buffy said something that might shake Spike's already fragile psyche.

"Actually, Rocco.  It was an utter failure."  Giles took his glasses off, customarily cleaning them with his shirt.  Buffy turned back to him, astonished at what he'd just said.  And why was he still calling him Rocco?  Before she could ask, Spike interrupted.

"God, I feel like I've been thrown to the lions."  He tried to get out of the chair but stumbled.  Buffy gently grabbed him by the arm, steadying him.  "You sure nothing happened, Rupert?"  Buffy eyed Giles, waiting for his response.

"Not a thing.  Sorry."  Giles never looked at them.

"Buffy.  I'm feeling mighty tired.  Is it okay if I…"  Buffy nodded, knowing what he was going to say.

"Let me take you upstairs.  You can use my bed."  Spike smiled gently at her, Buffy returning it in kind.

"Thanks, luv.  You're a lifesaver."  As Buffy guided Spike upstairs, she contemplated what had just happened.  Giles was hiding the truth from Spike.  And she wanted to know why.

When she came down the stairs, Giles had cleaned up the living room; his items now back in the bag.  He was sitting there, looking at the stairs.  He knew what was coming.  "So, are you going to tell me what the hell just happened?"  Buffy stood in front of him, her demeanor sour.  Giles remained seated, his foot still aching him.

"Buffy, he doesn't know who he is."  He remained reasonable, knowing that she wouldn't be as such.  "He thinks he's still Rocco."

"But he's Spike."  She wanted to shout, she wanted to scream.  But she knew that he was upstairs.  Tired.  Weary.  He deserved to rest.  She sighed softly, regaining some semblance of composure.  "He remembers that night.  Who knows how much more he can remember."  Her voice became unsteady, her emotions getting the better of her.  Giles got up, wincing as he did.  He put his hand on her shoulder, softly squeezing it.

"Probably everything.  But we can't rush this.  You saw what happened when I tried to ask him what happened after he…"  Giles wanted to put this delicately, to avoid hurting Buffy.  "After Willow."  He looked into her eyes, wanting to make sure she understood why he did what he had done.  He saw sadness coupled with understanding.  It was amazing how far she had come.  How mature she had become.  She was her own person now.  She was an adult.

"So, how do we get his memory back?"  Buffy's voice was sullen, yet reasonable.

"I'm certain that it will come back in time.  Certain events, interactions, will trigger his latent memories."  Buffy smiled gently at him, happy about the news.  He didn't want to bring up the next topic, because it would most likely negate that feeling.  But he had to say it.  "Buffy.  I don't think that's the question we should be asking though.  I think the right question is, how did he come back?  And why this personality?"

"Does it matter?"  Buffy didn't want to hear this right now.  "He's back.  He's gonna be okay.  Does it really matter?"  Buffy's emotions were now coming to the surface, sadness and despair tinting her voice.  Giles could see that she didn't want this to be temporary.  She wanted him back.  She needed him back.  Giles tilted her chin, looking into her eyes.

"Buffy, do you remember what happened when you came back?"  How could she not?  All she remembered was the pain and suffering she lived through during those first few months.  But he had been there to help her.  He had been there to comfort her.  He had been there for her.  She understood what Giles was trying to say.

"Yeah.  I remember."  She meekly smiled at him, her eyes sorrowful.  "Okay, we'll figure out what happened to him."  Giles had to make sure that she truly understood.

"And we can't let him know that he's someone else.  Until his memory comes back, he is Rocco."  Giles could see the tears in her eyes now.  He did the only thing he could.  The only thing he could in moments like these.  He became the father she never had.  "Come here."  He moved his hand from her shoulder to her back, pulling her slowly into his arms.  Buffy began to cry against his chest, Giles holding her.

"But it's so hard.  Now that I know."  She spoke in hiccups, the tears getting the better of her.  "How can I be around him, knowing that he's Spike?  How?"  Her tears came faster.  "Tell me how."

Giles held her close to him, smoothing her hair with his hand.  "I honestly don't know how."  Buffy laughed against his chest, still crying.  "Not the answer you were looking for.  But I know you, Buffy.  You'll get through this.  For him, you will."  Giles hadn't realized it until that moment.  But he knew that Spike was someone special.  Not just to Buffy, but to all of them.  He may have had his sordid past, but he had more than paid reparations for them.  First with Glory.  Then with Buffy.  Finally with Willow.  He had been a hero many times over.  And he was the constant that Buffy needed in her life.  The person that would love her, good or bad.  Spike would be there for her.  He'd make sure of it.

Buffy's crying subsided, her arms now wrapping around Giles' waist.  "Thanks, Giles."  Giles looked down at her, a look of confusion on his face.

"For what?"

"For being here."  Giles chuckled softly, his voice a whisper.

"Always, Buffy.  Always."

It was well into the evening when Spike stirred from the bed.  Whatever the Watcher had done to him, it definitely took its toll.  Spike came downstairs, noting that the living room was bustling with life.  Dawn had come home, as did Tara.  Buffy was also there.  He stepped off the stairs onto the floorboard, an audible creak making the group know they weren't alone.  "Uh.  Hello ladies."  He made his way into the living room, sitting next to Dawn.  As he glanced down, he could see that she was working on some schoolwork.  Mindless schoolwork.  Like history ever made a difference.  "What have you gals been doing during my beauty sleep?"

"Oh, nothing.  Just talking about which one of us would be the one to wake you up."  Dawn smiled as she said this.  Buffy had told them everything.  The man in the living room was Spike.  All he needed was time to remember.  She'd wait.  It was better than not having him around.  Spike smiled at her.

"So, now that it doesn't make a difference."  He leaned in closer to Dawn, grabbing the book from her.  "Which one of you lost?"  Buffy and Tara couldn't help but smile.  He could be charming when he wanted to be.  Dawn tried to get the book back.  Not because she was interested in the assignment.  But because Spike had challenged her.  And she never backed down from a challenge.  She lunged for the book, but Spike moved it out of the way, Dawn landing on the couch.

"Buffy.  Tell him to give me my book back."  She was mock complaining, her eyes playful.  Spike could play as well.

"No interference, luv.  This is between me and the niblet."  Buffy smiled playfully, watching the two tangle for the textbook.  She couldn't contain her laughter.  It felt almost like old times.  Almost.

"Fine, fine.  Buffy lost."  Dawn's hand swiped the book from Spike's hand, Spike now paying all of his attention to Buffy.  "Happy?"

"Don't know yet."  He looked at her, sitting in the armchair, a small smile playing on her face.  "You woulda been gentle, right, pet?"  Buffy blushed, thinking of all the times they had been gentle together in her bed.  She had to regain the initiative.

"Well.  I guess we'll never know."  She shot him a playful smile, Tara failing to contain her laughter.  Dawn was more successful, only because she didn't pick up on the double entendre.  At that moment, Giles called from the kitchen.

"Tara, could you give me a hand in here?"

"What's wrong, Giles?"  He sounded almost embarrassed as he spoke.

"Oh.  I think I've burnt the water."  The group laughed as soon as they heard this.  "Don't think I can't hear you all out there.  Serves you right if I give you all food poisoning."  Tara got up from the couch, moving to the kitchen to aid Giles in the dinner preparation.  Dawn sat back down in front of the coffee table, resuming her homework.  Buffy spoke to Spike, who was now peering over Dawn's shoulder.

"So, care to stay for dinner?"  He looked up, a familiar look on his face.

"Depends.  Giles is making something edible, right?"  She stifled a giggle.

"Should be.  Anyway, Tara's supervising now, so all should be right with the world."

"That's good to hear.  Besides, I'm famished, pet."  She was still amazed.  He was human.  He could breathe.  He had a pulse.  He got hungry.  Now, if only he could get his memory back, things would be different between the two of them.  Things would be better.  Dawn tilted her head up, looking at Spike.

"If you're hungry, then you should definitely stay.  Tara can whip up a mean three bean salad when she has to."  Spike gently smoothed Dawn's hair.

"That's good to hear.  As long as there's a steak in that salad, I'll be happy."  Buffy smiled at the two of them.  It was almost like he never left, the way they spoke to one another.  Maybe things were finally looking up.  Giles called from the kitchen.

"Dinner's almost ready.  Buffy, could you set the table?"

"Okay, Giles."  Buffy got up, walking toward the dining room.

"Houl up, luv.  Let me give you a hand."  He never saw the smile on her face as they walked into the dining room.  God give her strength, she'd wait for him.  She'd wait forever for him.

"Dawn, go get cleaned up."

"Okay."  Dawn gathered up her backpack and books, proceeding upstairs.  Buffy and Spike continued to talk as they set the table for dinner.

It was a relatively happy evening.  They all sat around the table, talking about what they'd done that day.  Almost like family.  Giles could see that Buffy was happy.  He hadn't seen her like that in months, maybe even years.  All because of the man sitting next to her.  Giles would do his best to help him.  To help the both of them.  He'd go through the notes he'd taken during their session, trying to decipher any patterns, any clues, that would aid in recovering Spike's memories.  Until then, he'd enjoy this moment at the dinner table.

"Well, Giles.  That was a delicious meatloaf.  In fact, I think it was my first meatloaf."  Spike had two servings.  Giles wasn't sure if it was the hunger or the taste that brought him back for more.  However, he wouldn't ignore a culinary compliment.

"Thank you, Rocco.  Although, I have to admit, if it wasn't for Tara's quick save, you'd be feasting of char instead of charbroiled." 

"I thought it was oven baked?"  Giles shot Dawn an annoyed look.  And after all the work he'd done to get that quip out.  Shot down by a fifteen year old.

"Yes.  Well."  Giles took a sip of his wine, trying to ignore Dawn's observation.

"Dawnie.  The oven kinda chars the top of the meatloaf."  Leave it to Tara to come to his aid.  Giles kindly smiled at Tara for the quick save.  Buffy looked at the time on the clock, noting that it was almost time for her to patrol.  She sighed softly, not wanting to leave the festive atmosphere.  However, a calling was a calling.  Even if you were the Slayer.

"This was great Giles.  Tara.  But I think it's time for me to start my second shift."  Dawn and Tara looked almost shocked, Buffy revealing her secret to Spike in the open.  Buffy saw the look on their faces and decided to clear the air.

"It's okay, guys.  Rocco knows I'm the Slayer."  Spike shot them a grin, confirming Buffy's statement.

"No worries, ladies.  Her secret's safe with me."  Buffy could see that Dawn and Tara had numerous questions to ask, but they'd have to wait.  Slay time was here.  Buffy got up from the table, starting to clear the plates from the table.  "Let me help you with that, luv."  Spike got up, gathering up the plates on the other side of the table.  The rest of the group thanked the two and continued talking amongst themselves.  Buffy walked into the kitchen, Spike following.

"Just put them in the sink.  I'll get around to them later."  Spike gave her an amused look as she placed the dishes into the sink.  "What?"

"You have Slayer powers, but you run from food grease?"  Spike placed his handful of plates into the sink, grabbing a dishcloth while turning on the faucet.  A dab of dishwashing liquid later and he was cleaning the dishes.  Buffy smiled softly.  Who knew Spike could be domestic?  "Grab a rag.  You can help me dry."

"Okay."  Buffy reached over Spike's hands, grabbing the dry towel on the other side of the sink.  As she brought her hand back, it gently grazed his wet one.  They looked at each other, hands still touching.  A moment that lasted an eternity, then Buffy slowly pulled her hand away.  Spike gently smiled at her, placing the clean dish in her hand.  Another weak smile from Buffy as she proceeded to dry the plate.  Spike broke the awkward silence.

"So, you gonna be okay, patrolling by your lonesome?"

"Uh, yeah."  She placed the dish in the dish rack as she spoke.

"Need a hand?"  Buffy almost slammed the plate against the rack as he spoke.  Did he just offer to go patrolling with her?  Maybe he was remembering patrolling with her before he died.  Maybe it was a good idea for him to come along.  It could jog his memory.  But she had to stop by Xander's.  Anya had told him about Rocco.  They needed to know the whole story.  Anyway, she had to see freaky Xander.  He didn't like Spike, and now that he was back, his reaction ought to be priceless.

"Thanks.  But I have to stop off by a friend's place first.  Wouldn't want you to feel all out of place."  Spike gently smiled at her, handing her another dish.

"S'okay.  I should get home anyway.  My plants are probably parched."  Wow, he was taking care of something.  And he was worried.  How weird.  And definitely cute.

"You like shrubberies?"  They gently laughed.  He must have been a Monty Python fan.  "Seriously, though.  What kind of plants?"

Spike finished washing the last dish, handing it to Buffy.  He tore off a paper towel from the dispenser, drying his hands.  "Flowers mostly.  Tulips, lilies, roses."  He tossed the paper towel into the garbage, then jumped up onto the counter.  He watched as Buffy finished drying the last dish.  "Makes the place rather appealing."  Buffy could see it now, his room strewn with all colors of flowers.  She'd have to see his place.  To see the flowers, and to know where he lived.  It wasn't like he was living in the crypt anymore.

"I'd like to see your flowers."  She placed the last dish into the dish rack, grabbing a paper towel.  As she turned around, she saw him sitting on the counter, looking at her with those dark blue pools.  She felt so exposed when he looked at her.  "I mean, if you'd let me."  He chuckled softly.

"Anytime, pet.  Just let me know when."  She smiled softly at him, dropping her wet towel into the garbage.  He jumped off the counter, giving her a playful look.  "Let's say we get going.  You can walk me home."  Buffy laughed softly.  She nodded.

"Okay, let me get my coat."  They walked out into the living room, the group sitting in front of the television, watching one of those teen dramas that Dawn loved.  Giles was rummaging through his bag, looking for some odd knickknack once again.  Buffy slipped Spike's coat on, the stake still in the pocket.

"Been meaning to tell you."  Spike moved in front of her, holding the door open for her.  "That coat looks great on you."  Buffy hid a small smile.  She always thought that Spike would like her in his clothes.  When he got his memory back, she'd have to test that theory more meticulously.  Buffy waved at the others, Giles still rummaging through his bag.

"Bye guys.  Be back soon."

"Bye, Buffy.  Bye, Rocco."  Dawn never took her eyes off the television screen.  Tara waved at the couple while Giles just mumbled something.  The two walked out the door, leaving the others in the living room.  Tara was curious now, Giles scavenging getting the better of her.

"What are you looking for, Giles?"  He never took his eyes off the bag.

"Hmm.  What's that?"  Dawn was still fixated on the television, not paying attention to the conversation Tara and Giles were now having.

"You look like you've lost something."  Giles looked up, concern on his face.

"I can't find them."

"What?"

"My notes from this morning.  They're gone."

He lived in a rather quaint apartment complex.  It looked almost like Giles' old place, down to the small patio area in the center.  They walked up to the second floor.  As far as she could see, there were only four apartments per floor.  And they all looked very spacious.  She wondered how he could afford a place like this but decided to leave it alone.  They'd be time to ask him later.

He finally stopped in front of the second door.  Number 220.  Okay, she knew where he lived now.  What else could she possibly learn tonight?  Spike fiddled with his keys, finally finding the one that fit the lock.  The lock tumbled open, Spike slowly pushing the door open.  "Well, thanks for walking me home, pet."

"My pleasure."  She meant it.  Even though he didn't need protection, she enjoyed being in his company.  Spike turned around, his body in front of the doorframe.  Buffy stood in front of him, standing outside.  She could see the roses from over his shoulder.  They were healthy, blooming.

"I'd invite you in…"  Her heart began to flutter.  Was he going to ask her in?  He had that look in his eyes.  That look he made when he was about to say something very moving, very romantic.  "…But I know you have a prior engagement."  Okay.  So her game was somewhat off.  It wasn't entirely her fault.  After all, he was acting differently, with this new personality.  It was his fault.  All his fault.  Then she felt it.  His hand on her face, gently pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.  He smiled at her, his eyes gentle.

"Yeah, I should get going."  She didn't move.  She couldn't move.  They stood there, in front of his door.  Looking at each other.  She didn't realize it, but her hand was now on his arm.  Her eyes were focused on his face, his cheekbones, his lips.  She didn't realize that her lips were on his until it was too late.  Her eyes slowly closed, relishing the feel of him again.  She felt guilty, doing this.  That was, until she felt his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him.  Although the kiss was chaste, she could feel the passion in it.  In him.

She didn't know how long the kiss lasted.  All she knew was that he had pulled away, making her miss him that much more.  Her eyes slowly opened, looking deep into his.  "Wow."  He pretty much summed up the whole event right there.

"Yeah."  Now the guilt came flooding back.  Even though it was Spike in front of her, he didn't know it.  And it wasn't right, expecting something from him that he might not be able to provide.  She had to wait.  She'd wait.  Spike must have seen the look of guilt, because he spoke.

"Hey, this wasn't your fault.  It was the lighting.  Moon does strange things around here."  They both laughed.  They knew that it was the most stupid excuse in the world.  But at least it replaced the awkward moment with a silly one.  "You should get going, before we do something else we'll have to apologize for later."  He was smirking at her now.  She returned it in kind.

"'Kay.  See you tomorrow?"  What did she just do?  Yeah, don't make it too obvious that you're totally into him.  Because that would just be wrong.

"Most definitely."  His mood became somber now.  "Do you think he'll be able to help me?  Giles."  Buffy smiled at him, kindness in her eyes.

"If anyone can help you, it's him."  She gently squeezed his hand, never losing his gaze.  "I promise."

"Thanks, Buffy."  A gentle kiss on his cheek, and she made her way down the stairs.  He watched as she left the complex, then closed the door behind him.  He didn't notice the figure in the corner until he flipped on the lights.

"Hello, Spike."  Spike dropped his keys to the ground, lunging toward the stranger.  His hand closed around his throat, squeezing hard.

"Who are you, mate?  And what are you doing in my flat?"  The stranger only smiled.

"My name's Doc.  I'm here to help you, Spike."  That's when he noticed it.  Doc had called him Spike.  That wasn't his name.

"Then you've got the wrong place.  Name's Rocco."  Doc continued smiling, moving his hand to his pocket.  Spike squeezed harder.  "No sudden moves, or I pop your head clean off."

"Not a weapon.  Just something to help you."  Spike looked at him quizzically and decided to pull the object from the pocket.  Upon doing so, he pulled out a small red notebook.  Spike loosened his grip on Doc, allowing him to grab the notebook back.

"Oi!"  Doc quickly moved away from Spike, flipping the notebook open as he did so.

"'The patient displays memory lapses, most likely repressed.  While he remembers moments in his life through means of hypnosis, he cannot recall said memories while conscious."  Spike stopped in his tracks, listening to Doc read.  Giles had hypnotized him.  It couldn't be.  "Should I continue?"  Spike nodded.  Doc continued.

"If his memories are repressed, telling the patient of his past could prove cataclysmic.  If exposed to the truth by means other than natural recall, his behavioral patterns may be altered irrevocably."  Spike had to know.

"Who are you talking about?"  Doc kept on reading.

"His violent tendencies may prove to be too powerful for him if his memories are forced on him, thus unleashing the monster we have struggled with for many years.  If there is any chance to curtail the beast, we must be careful."

"Get to the bloody point!"  Spike was moving from annoyed to pissed.  Doc kept on smiling while he read.

"Rocco must not know that he is, indeed, William the Bloody.  Or, as he is better known, Spike."  Spike felt his world falling away from him.  He was Rocco.  That's all he had known.  But Spike was someone from their past.  From Buffy's past.

"Where did you get that from?"  Doc tossed the notebook to Spike.  He flipped it open, noting the name on the inside cover.

"Rupert Giles?"  He had said that the session had revealed nothing.  But his written words said different.  Why would he hide this?

"I can help you, if you let me."  Spike turned his gaze to Doc, who was still smiling, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

"And why would you help me?"

"Because your enemies are mine as well."

"What enemies are those, mate?"  Doc moved closer to him, noting that Spike was more interested in listening than killing.

"The Watcher.  The Council."  He paused a bit, allowing his words to sink in.  "The Slayer."  From the look on Spike's face, Doc knew that he was doing extremely well.  "Ask yourself.  Why would they hide the truth from you?"  He began to walk past him, stopping by his side.  "And why can't you remember your time in London?"  Spike looked shocked now.  He barely knew how he arrived in London.  He still wasn't sure why he'd come back here.  He needed answers.  And right now, Doc was giving it out by the handful.  Doc began to move past him, opening the door.  "Keep the book.  There's more information in there about you.  I'll be around if you want me to fill in the gaps."  As he began moving through the door, Spike spoke.

"Oi, mate."  Doc didn't turn around.  "Tell me everything."  Doc smiled, moving back into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

To be continued 


	6. When He was Bad

Title:  When He was Bad

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Violence and Language)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to 'The I in Team', 

'Restless', 'Fool for Love', 'Forever', 'The Weight of the World', 'The Gift', 'Once More, With Feeling' and 'Smashed'.  It's episode-riffic.

Summary:  Sixth part of Falling into You series.  

Status:  Finished (Part VI of ?)

"Wait.  Let me get this straight.  Rocco is Spike?"  Xander was pacing the carpet while Buffy and Anya sat on the couch.  Buffy was right though.  Xander was 

definitely wigging out.  Anya on the other hand seemed pretty happy with the news.  After all, she was the one that thought Rocco was Spike in the first place.  And 

Anya being right about something always made her happy.  Xander stopped pacing, turning to the two women on the couch.  "So, does this mean he's gonna get all 

violent like Angel when he came back?"  Buffy smiled at her friend.  Leave it to Xander to find only the negative in a vampire coming back from the dead.

"He's not going to get all violent and broody.  That was Angel's deal."  Buffy didn't realize what she had said until the words came out of her mouth.  She was 

actually placing Spike over Angel.  Funny thing was, she didn't think any worse of it.  "Anyway, Spike's human now.  Well, kinda human."  Anya decided to chime 

in.

"He could be a male Slayer."  Buffy and Xander looked at the ex-vengeance demon parading as a bride to be.  Buffy hadn't even considered that possibility.  Was 

there a line of male Slayers?  She'd have to discuss this idea with Giles when she got the chance.  Xander interrupted his moment of quiet with more panic.

"Wait, there are male Slayers now?"  Buffy was about to answer but Anya responded first.

"There have been rumors, though nothing substantiated."  To say that Buffy was shocked was an understatement.  After all, Anya knew more about the demon 

realm than any of them.  Maybe even Giles.  And Slayers fell under the category of demon realm.

"Really?"  Anya nodded her head and continued her narrative.

"If I remember correctly, the Council of Watchers had a dispute and divided into two sects.  Sometime around the 1400s.  This was when they first got into the 

Slayer game."  Buffy nodded.

"That sounds about right.  I remember Giles saying something about Slayers being around way before the Council came into existence.  So, what happened?"  Anya 

could see that Buffy was interested in something she was saying, so she continued on.  Xander, also interested in Anya's tale, sat down on the armchair adjacent to 

the couch.  Anya continued.

"Well, the division was rumored to be because of the Slayer lineage.  Apparently not all of the Council members believed in a female Slayer.  You know, that sexist 

crap."  Buffy nodded her head in acknowledgment.  With her encounters with the Council, she always felt that they treated her as nothing more than an object.  

Sexism seemed to explain a lot about their behavior, in a weird sort of way.  "So, the majority of the Council followed the male Slayer while the minority fell in 

behind the female Slayer.  However, something went wrong on the male side."

"What?"  Xander was intrigued in Anya's telling, almost as if he was listening to some sort of twisted fairy tale.

"In the late 1700s, the male Slayer at the time went to the dark side."  Buffy wasn't really sure what Anya meant.

"What do you mean dark side?  You mean like Faith dark side?  Or Darth Vader dark side?"

"Oh, please.  Darth Vader was a puppy compared to this one."  Buffy hadn't realized that her hands begun to shake when she heard Anya's comment until she 

looked down.  She stilled her hands, listening intently.  "According to what I've heard, this Slayer was extremely gifted.  Skilled sorcerer, well versed in hand-to-

hand combat, and much more powerful than any Slayer that came before him.  You name it, he had it."

"Sounds like slaying would be almost beneath him."  Buffy looked at Xander, taking in his statement.  If Buffy had power like that, would she relegate herself to just 

slaying?  Or would she do something else with power like that?  She pushed the thought out of her head, listening as Anya continued.

"It was.  He got tired of being the Council's private watchdog.  So, he killed them."  Xander shook his head in disbelief.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that.  In a matter of months, the majority of the Council members were put in the ground.  And the minority became the majority."  Buffy spoke, her voice 

a mere whisper now.

"You mean the members that took the female Slayer's side."

"That's right.  However, this wasn't enough for the male Slayer.  He didn't feel that he was in the clear until all of the Council members were taken care of."  Anya 

spoke matter of factly, not knowing how much fear and worry this story was having on Buffy.  "He went after the other sect members, killed a good deal of them 

before he was stopped."  Xander had to know.

"How could they stop someone that powerful?  If he had the magic and physical going for him, what could possibly stop him?"  Buffy knew the answer.

"The female Slayer."  Anya turned to Buffy, a look of surprise on her face.

"You've heard this before?"  Buffy meekly smiled.

"Lucky guess."  It was nothing but.  In the years that she had been a Slayer, she'd faced unbeatable evil and somehow managed to overcome.  Even if it meant her 

life, she always prevailed.  She looked at Anya after the moment of silence.  "Keep going."

"Okay.  Well, the remaining Council members sent the female Slayer to combat the male Slayer.  It didn't look like she'd be able to stop him, but she did."

"How?"  Buffy was the one that asked this time while Xander sat silently.

"It's not really clear.  There have been mentions of an energy gate that the female Slayer used."  Xander spoke.

"You mean like a hell gate?"  Anya shook her head.

"Don't know.  Could have been, I guess.  But that's pretty much what happened."  Something about the story was troubling Buffy now.

"So, the line ended with him?"  Anya stretched her legs from the couch, feeling a cramp coming on.

"That's what some people say.  Others say that the line continued on, but each time a new male Slayer was chosen, the Council would kill that person before they 

realized what power they truly had."  Xander took a deep breath.

"My God."  Buffy spoke, her voice monotonous.

"God has nothing to do with the Council.  Sounds like them, though.  Killing something they feared or couldn't control."  Times like these, Buffy couldn't believe that 

Giles was one of them.  He didn't act like them, of course.  But the fact that he still believed in what they did make her wonder sometimes.  "So, is that all, Anya?  

Female stops male and all is peaches and cream?"  Anya nodded.

"Pretty much.  But remember, this is all just conjecture.  You should really talk to Giles.  He might know more."  Buffy smiled at Anya.

"I will."  After hearing this story, knowing whether there was fact behind it or not would either make her feel troubled or very relieved.  Hopefully, it was the latter.  

She looked up at the clock, seeing that it was way past time for her to begin her nightly patrol.  She looked at Xander now.  "Well, you think you can play along for 

now with this whole Spike Rocco thing?"  Xander chuckled softly.

"I'll play, little lady.  But only because it's you.  Anyone else and I'd be the first to dust that vampire."  Buffy threw him a playful frown.

"He's not a vampire anymore.  So no staking.  Promise?"  Buffy got up from the couch, still keeping her eyes on Xander.

"Okay, okay.  I promise."  Buffy leaned over and was about to kiss Xander on the cheek.  However, she thought better of it since Anya was in the room.  She 

might think that Buffy was trying to take her man.  Instead, she hugged him.

"Good."  She turned back to Anya, noting that she was still smiling.  That was good.  "Same goes for you too."

"No problem.  I can keep a secret.  Just like the time Xander and I had sex in your bathroom.  I never told anyone about that."  Xander shook his head in disbelief, 

a look of disgust washing over Buffy's face.  Buffy turned back to Xander, Xander reading her look.

"I'll make sure she doesn't talk."

"Thanks.  Well, I'm off to protect the headstones of Sunnydale.  Wish me luck."  Xander chuckled softly.

"Good luck, Buff."  Unfortunately for them, they had no idea how much luck she'd really need that night.

"Tell me everything."  Spike crossed his arms across his chest, watching the small old man take a seat in the living room.  He was initially taken aback by the tail 

swinging next to the old man's leg, but he knew that there was more to Sunnydale that met the eye.

"What do you want to know?"  Spike growled disgust.

"Just told you.  You deaf?"  Doc smiled at him, almost a gentle caring smile.  But his eyes said differently.

"No, what I meant was, what do you want to hear first."  He saw that Spike was having trouble with the whole situation so he decided to make things easier for 

Spike.  "Okay, let's start from London and work our way back to Sunnydale.  Is that okay with you?"  Spike nodded agreement, a look of frustration evident on 

his face.  "Alright then.  Let's begin.  What's the first thing you remember during your time in London?"  Spike was getting fed up now with Doc.

"I thought you were going to tell me everything?"

"Well, there's no reason to reiterate what's already known.  Wouldn't you agree?"  Spike saw the logic in the old man's thinking.  He furrowed his brow, trying to 

remember.

"I remember bars.  Almost like I was in a cage."  He looked down at the ground as he said this.  Doc's chuckling brought his gaze back up.

"That's because you were."  Spike was about to ask how he knew such things but decided to listen to the entire story before he decided to believe him or not.

"So, what was I doing there and who kept me there?"

"You were a prisoner of the Watcher's Council."  The same people that Buffy followed.  Obeyed.  Spike shook the thought away before he started doubting Buffy 

herself.  "They captured you.  Wanted to experiment on you."  Doc smiled, his tail moving faster.  "Wanted to cut into you.  But I didn't let them."  He didn't expect 

that response.

"So, you're the one that got me out?"  He didn't remember any of it.

"That's right.  I told you.  We're very close, you and I.  Almost brotherly you could say."  Doc flashed him a warm smile, his eyes still in human form.  Spike waved 

his hand, indicating for Doc to continue.  "I got you out of there, got papers drawn up and told you to go to Sunnydale where I'd meet up with you.  But imagine my 

surprise when I saw you and you didn't remember me."  Spike flashed back to the corner mart, when he had first met Buffy and Dawn.  He thought he had seen an 

old man eyeing him curiously.  Maybe the old coot was telling the truth.

"But why would I lose my memory?"  It was a valid question.  If Doc and Buffy were a part of his past, why would he forget?

"The Council did something to your head.  Something with that chip.  The one that prevents you from doing harm to humans."  This sounded like a science fiction 

farce now.

"'Fraid you've lost me now, mate."  Doc let out a tiny laugh as he got up.  He walked over to his bag, opening it.  He could see that Spike was on the alert now.

"Still think I'm the bad guy."  Doc pulled out a small orb from the bag, placing it on the table.  Spike eyed it, thinking it looked familiar.  "It's the Eye of Veritas.  It'll 

show you the way."  Spike was uncertain about what Doc meant.  He motioned for Spike to come closer to the table.  He did.

"So, what do I do?"

"It works on emotion.  Think it, and all will be revealed."  Spike considered his words.

"So, this can show the future?"  Doc laughed.

"If it could, I'd have used it long ago on Wall Street."  Spike shook his head.  This guy definitely didn't have all his marbles.  "Just think about the chip and you'll 

see what it wants you to see."  Spike didn't like the sound of that.  Selective memory.  But it was better than nothing.  He took a breath, his hands hovering over the 

sphere.  He was about to reconsider but Doc's hand came down on his, forcing them onto the orb.  The orb became luminescent, filling the living room with white 

light.  Spike screamed in pain, white light flowing from his eyes.  Doc removed his hand and smiled.

"You sure you don't know where they are?  Maybe you just misplaced them."  Tara flipped the cushions back onto the couch as she spoke.  Giles was still looking 

around feverishly for his notebook.  Without the notes from this morning's session, he wouldn't be able to help Spike.  Or Buffy.

"I quite distinctly remember putting them back into my bag once we were done."  Dawn joined in the search as well, looking in the kitchen.  However, if Giles lost a 

book in the kitchen, that would be an obvious sign that he was going senile.  Giles stopped moving, trying to recollect what he had done earlier in the day.

"I came in.  Placed my things on the coffee table.  Took the notes from the session.  Put everything back in the bag.  God, what am I missing?"  Giles ran his hand 

through his hair, frustrated that he couldn't remember.

"Don't worry, Giles.  I'm sure we'll find it."  Tara smiled meekly at him.  "After all, the house is only so big.  Can't have that many places to hide."  Giles weakly 

smiled.

"Guess you have a point."  Giles was about to rummage through his bag again when Dawn called from the kitchen.

"Giles.  Tara.  You gotta see this."  They gave each other a wondering glance before they walked into the kitchen.  They arrived to see Dawn kneeling at the base of 

the kitchen door.  However, no book was in sight.

"What is it, Dawn?"  Giles walked over to Dawn, moving down on one knee.  Tara stood behind the two as Dawn pointed.

"I don't think this belongs here."  Giles eyed the object carefully for a moment.  "Do you?"  He knew that Dawn was right.  He turned back to Tara.

"Could you get me a paper towel or something?"  Tara nodded and moved to the kitchen sink.  She pulled a sheet of paper from the dispenser and handed it to 

Giles.  "Thank you."  Giles gently removed the object from the doorframe, wondering how it got embedded there in the first place.  Tara was curious now.

"What is it?"  Giles stood up, revealing the thick green scale to her.

"I'm not sure.  But I've the feeling that it's not good news."

Spike didn't know when he stopped screaming but whatever Doc had said about the orb was right.  As though he was there, he saw the Initiative doctors placing 

the chip in his head, he being sedated on the table, being cut open like a pig.  Spike definitely didn't like these bastards.  Before he could process what was going on 

in the operation room, the world shifted, dissolved away, until he was somewhere else.  He was in a large room, most likely a gathering place based on the number 

of seats.  Then the voice from behind him.  He turned around to see a blonde woman, most likely in her forties, with a lab coat on.

"This is your objective.  Sub-T: 67119.  Demon class: Polgara species.  Though visual confirmation has not yet been made, we're confident of the target's 

approximate position as it leaves behind a distinct protein marker.  Dr. Angleman will brief you on its defenses."  As she sat down, another person moved toward 

the overhead, laying another transparency over the previous one.

"When threatened . . . bone skewers jut from the creature's forearms during battle.  It's imperative when ensnaring it not to damage its arms.  That's all you really 

need to know."  Spike began to wonder why he was seeing this.  After all, this really had nothing to do with him.  Unless he was related to one of those Polgara 

things.  That's when he heard her voice.

"Question."  Spike spun back around only to see Buffy there, her hand up.  His heart almost sank.  Was she responsible for putting the chip in his head?  Was she 

the reason that he was no longer a man but a mere object?  A plaything?  As he thought about this, the room faded once again, reemerging to a place that felt 

familiar to him.  Once again he heard her.  "What the hell are you doing?"  

He turned to the right and saw her standing there with him.  He looked different though.  He was wearing her jacket and his hair was slicked back, peroxide 

blonde.  He couldn't believe that he would ever have his hair like that.  He looked on in awe, still not used to his life being displayed to him like this.

"Come on. I can feel it, Slayer. You know you want to dance."  He was holding her arms now, pulling her closer to him.  Spike made his way closer to the couple, 

feeling uncomfortable seeing himself acting like that.  If he didn't know better, he would say that he was frustrated.  He positioned himself so he was situated by their 

side now, able to see both of their faces.  If he knew better, he'd say that Buffy felt uncomfortable being that close to him.  But that didn't make sense.  She seemed 

to almost enjoy being with him that night in the pizza place.  And the kiss they shared in her living room.  That didn't feel like she was uncomfortable.  She spoke, 

interrupting his train of thought.

"Say it's true. Say I do want to."  Spike could see the relief, the hope in his eyes as Buffy spoke to him.  However, it didn't last long.  A wave of disbelief washed 

over him as he saw Buffy shoving him back onto the pavement.  The look in her eyes was no longer one of awkwardness.  It had been replaced by one of hatred 

and disgust.  "It wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you."  He looked on as she threw money into his face.  "You're beneath me." 

And with that, she walked away into the darkness.  Spike, taken aback, took a deep breath.  He turned around to examine himself, the one on the ground.  To say 

that he was disturbed when he saw the leather clad version of himself break down into tears while gathering up the money would be an understatement.  Spike 

closed his eyes, no longer wishing to see what the Eye had in store.  However, his wish wasn't heard.  As he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the 

alleyway.  Instead, he found himself outside of a large building.

Emergency services looked as though they had been dispatched, a frozen block being wheeled out of the building.  All that for a block of ice?  Definitely weird.  

Spike knew there was a reason he was being made to see this, so he looked around.  Looked for her.  Sure enough, there she was, walking away from the crowd.  

She was walking away with him.  He couldn't hear what they were saying so he decided to get closer.  As he approached them, he could finally hear what they 

were saying.  He was the first to speak.

"A man can change."  Buffy stopped walking, turning around to face him.  Spike noted that he was wearing the leather jacket and blonde hair once again.

"You're not a man.  You're a thing."  Spike couldn't believe it.  Those words coming from her.  Once was coincidence.  But twice?  She turned away once again, 

making her way away from him as quickly as possible.  It was obvious to Spike now.  She hated him.  He continued looking, seeing himself grab Buffy by the 

shoulder, looking frustrated once again.

"Stop walking away."

"Don't touch me!"  Spike definitely didn't expect what would come next.  She turned around and punched him hard in the face.  He punched her back, watching as 

she fell to the ground.  Spike was confused now when he didn't see himself yell in pain.  Wait.  Did he remember what the chip did to him?  He remembered the 

chip being the bane of his existence.  Not being able to be himself.  But he was wrong because he saw himself scream in pain.  Maybe it was a delay.  Buffy got 

back up to her feet and hit him again.  While he was in pain.  Spike couldn't help but think to himself that this Buffy was not the same one he had met days ago.  But 

what if it was?  Spike looked on as Buffy spoke to his former self.  "You're a thing.  An evil, disgusting, thing."  

She walked away again.  It was too much to bear.  He didn't want to see anymore.  He found that his eyes were filled with tears now, watching his former self 

kneeling on the ground.  Spike whispered to no one in particular.  "No more."  The scene faded away once again.  However, this time, he was back in his 

apartment, Doc standing next to him.  Spike quickly released the orb, stumbling backward.  Spike found himself fumbling for words.  "Thought…thought you said 

it'd show me about the chip."  Doc spoke matter of factly.

"Told you it worked on emotion.  Apparently, you were thinking about something else."  Spike turned to Doc, noting the smile on his face.  "Someone else?"  Spike 

hated the fact that he was reading him so easily.  "So, did it work?  Did you fill in any of the blanks?"  Spike had to know.

"The Slayer.  How does she fit in with me?  Kept seeing her."  Doc smiled.

"She wants to kill you."  Spike looked at Doc, noting that he was being serious now.  "But they won't let her, the Council.  They need you back."

"Why?"

"Because you're a monster.  Because you're a killer."  Doc moved closer to Spike, his tail hanging to his side.  "Because you have something they want."

"And what's that?"

"Not really sure.  Had to get you out before they cut you up into little bits."  Doc picked up the orb, rolling it in his hands.  "Guess we could go back and let them 

though.  If you want, of course."  Spike threw him a disgusted look.  "Or not."

"Alright.  Answer me this.  I've been close to the Slayer a few times now, and she hasn't taken me to the Council.  Why?"  It was a good question.  Why would 

Buffy act so friendly around him now when she clearly didn't in the past?

"Because that's your weakness."  Spike moved backward, finding the couch behind him.  He gave Doc a questioning glance.  "Every man's weakness.  A beautiful 

woman."

"So, you're saying what?"

"She can't kill you, so she's doing the next best thing."  Doc moved the orb to his other hand, tossing it as though it were a tennis ball.  "She's playing with you.  

With your emotions."  Spike tilted his head, considering the old man's words.  "Imagine how much joy she'll feel when she breaks you.  When she betrays you."  

Spike could see it all in his head.  Buffy getting close to him, then pulling the rug out by turning him over to the Council.  He couldn't place the emotion that was 

swelling inside him.  "Question is, what are you going to do about it?"  Spike looked up, finally identifying the emotion.

"Guess I'll have to go talk it out with her, eh?"  Doc smiled, holding the sphere in his hand.

"Care for another trip?"  Spike got up, shaking his head in the process.

"That's okay, mate.  Maybe later."  Spike walked past Doc, moving toward the door.  "Tell me though."  Doc turned back to him.  "Know where I can get a pair 

of boots this time of night?"  Doc laughed softly.

"I think I can, at that.  I think I can."

Spike followed the directions Doc had given him.  If what he told him was true, then the place should be somewhere close.  As Spike walked deeper into the 

cemetery, he saw it.  It was a bit run down, but what did he expect.  It was in a cemetery.  Spike pushed the door to the crypt open, a wave of nostalgia washing 

over him.  The room looked so familiar.  The tomb to the side.  The chair in front of the television.  Almost like coming home.

Spike moved further in, his eyes falling on the imperfection in the ground.  He knelt down, pushing the stone slab away from the opening.  Spike expected it to smell 

of death and decay, but it didn't.  It smelt faintly of her.  Curious.  But he wasn't here to reminisce.  He had come for something else.  Spike peered into the dark 

hole before he made his way down the ladder.

He looked around for a light source to illuminate the darkness.  What was that, a lamp?  Spike walked over to it, turning the knob between his thumb and index 

finger.  He was surprised when it came on.  Well, guess it made some sense.  After all, there was a television upstairs.  Spike stood still, taking in his surroundings.  

Another tomb.  A bed.  A weapons case.  Numerous candles.  A nightstand.  The picture frame on the nightstand got his attention, though.  He walked over and 

picked it up.  The sight was not one he was expecting to see.  It was Buffy.  A happy Buffy.  A smiling Buffy.  But why would he have a picture like this?

"You git.  She was probably playing you even before you lost your bloody memory."  But why would he let her?  If that truly were the case, wouldn't he have 

known better than to associate himself with her?  He shook his head, moving to put the picture back.  He wasn't sure why he looked at it again.  It felt like ages until 

he finally put it back down.  "Right.  Now, if I were footwear, where would I be?"

He knelt down next to the bed, looking underneath it.  Nothing.  He slowly walked through the room, looking around as he did so.  According to Doc, this was his 

place.  And from what he saw in the Eye of Veritas, Spike was into boots and dark colors.  He knew he didn't really need them, but why go halfway.  He wanted 

to savor the look on her face.

Spike almost missed it as he walked deeper into the under belly of the crypt.  A wooden closet set into the corner.  "Well, well.  Let's see what we got here."  He 

moved to the closet, pulling the doors slowly open.  He couldn't help but focus his eyes on it.  His hand went instinctively to the shirt, pulling it from the hanger.  He 

remembered wearing this for another woman.  "Drusilla."

The name sounded familiar.  He didn't know why he spoke it, but it felt right.  Then he saw it in his mind.  The same alley.  The same building.  He was there, with 

her.  With Buffy.  He was wearing the same red shirt, leather coat over it.  They were singing?  Maybe.  But he definitely remembered the kiss.  The kiss and her 

words before they did.

"This isn't real.  But I just want to feel."

Spike shook his head, the memory shaking him to the very core.  The anger was swelling inside him now.  And he found himself welcoming it.  "Bitch wants to feel.  

I'll give her something to bloody feel."  He grinned as he looked off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular.

Xander and Anya had knocked on the door, but no one answered.  Xander tried once again.  Anya was holding the gift in her hands.  A gift for Giles.  They were 

the only ones that hadn't seen him yet.  Xander was anxious to see the Watcher again while Anya was fearful.

"You're sure he's not back for the store?"  Xander turned and smiled at his fiancée.

"An, I think that's the last thing on his mind right now."  Still no answer at the door.  He was about to knock again when the door swung open.  Tara stood there, a 

small smile playing across her face as she saw them standing there.

"Hey guys.  What are you doing here?"  Tara moved away from the doorway, allowing Xander and Anya to enter.  Xander took off his coat and hung it on the coat 

rack while Anya moved past Tara.

"Here to see Giles.  Is he around?"  Tara nodded.

"Yeah, but he's kinda busy right now."  Xander saw the troubled look on her face.

"Anything wrong?"

"Oh, Giles lost some notes.  But he's trying to identify something in the living room right now."  Upon hearing the words, Anya made her way into the living room, 

seeing Dawn and Giles going through various texts.

"Giles!"  Giles and Dawn turned their gaze away from the pages and to Anya.  Giles got up, a smile on his face.

"Hello, Anya."  Before she could state her usual greeting, Giles decided to assuage her fears.  "I'm not here for the shop."  At first, Anya was puzzled, but smiled 

afterwards.  She stuck her arms out, offering the gift to him.

"It's a crystal ball.  We had a surplus."  Giles frowned as Dawn giggled softly.

"Well.  Thank you, Anya.  I'll have to put it with my…"  He sighed.  "Other crystal balls."  He put the wrapped box down and proceeded to hug her.  At that 

moment, Xander and Tara walked into the living room.

"Hey, Watcher man.  You trying to feel up my girl?"  Giles smiled, releasing Anya.

"No fears, Xander.  Just a friendly hug."  Xander chuckled as he hugged the Watcher.  As they broke the embrace, Xander spoke.

"So, Tara tells me you misplaced some notes.  Sounds like senility's setting in pretty early."  Giles gave him a startled look while Anya took a seat next to Dawn, 

looking into the text.

"What are you looking for anyway?"  Dawn answered.

"Something that leaves these around."  Dawn held up the scale for Anya for a closer look.  Xander looked over Giles' shoulder, not believing what he was seeing.  

He walked past Giles, moving to the two women.

"Could I see that?"  Dawn nodded and handed the scale to him.  Xander held it to the light to get a better view.  It was what he thought it was.  "Is this what you're 

trying to examine?"  Giles turned around.

"Yes."  Tara moved closer to Giles, interested in what was going on.

"You can stop then.  I know exactly where this came from."  The urgency in his voice made Tara nervous.

"Where?"  Xander never took his eyes off the green scale.

"Doc."  Giles and Dawn gave Xander a worried look.

"Are you sure?  I mean, very sure?"  Xander nodded.

"Oh yeah.  No way I'll ever forget that piece of work."  How could he?  He had put a sword into Doc's chest when he and Spike were fighting for the scrolls.  

Dawn spoke.

"I don't believe I didn't make the connection."  Xander looked at Dawn, smiling even though he knew the situation was too dire for one right about now.

"It's okay, Dawn.  I probably wouldn't want to remember the guy that got all knife happy with me too."  Dawn cringed at the words, but he was right.  That night 

on the tower had been the worst.  First, watching Spike hopelessly fight for her and fail.  Then being bled by Doc.  Finally watching Buffy jump.  Giles spoke, 

breaking the silence.

"So, he somehow made his way in here and took my notes?"  Giles was puzzled now.  "But why?"  Dawn filled in the missing piece for him.

"He and Spike have some kind of connection."  Giles turned to Dawn.

"How so?"

"He remembered Spike coming back.  Coming back as Rocco."  The words slowly worked their way into everyone's minds.  Giles spoke.

"What…what are you saying?"  Dawn closed the book, walking over to Giles.

"He knew that Spike would come back."  Giles shook his head, a troubled look on his face.

"So, he has a certain interest in Spike then."  Tara didn't like where this was going.

"But why?"  Giles spoke, looking at no one in particular.

"That is the question."  He adjusted his glasses, afraid to find out the answer.

Buffy was making her nightly round through the cemetery when she came up to his tombstone.  However, this time, she didn't feel a sense of loss.  She only smiled.  

"Guess this will be the last time I come back here."  She looked to Spike's headstone.  "Seeing as you're alive, that is."  She smiled gently to herself.  He was alive.  

He was foggy in the memory department.  But he was alive.  All she had to do now was wait.  If he could wait for her, she'd wait for him.  No matter how long it 

took.  

She stood there; looking at the place she had spent many nights after he died, when she heard a noise behind her.  She quickly turned around, stake in hand.  

However, she lowered it as soon as she saw who her would be attacker was.

"Hello, luv."  Buffy was a bit surprised to see him.  Well, not see him.  Just see him in those clothes.  He had a black tee shirt on, black jeans, a pair of black boots 

and a red shirt.  Also, was his hair slicked back?  Maybe this was a sign of his memory coming back.  She smiled at him, slowly walking toward him.

"Hey there.  You taking another shortcut again?"  Spike smiled at her, hating himself for doing it.

"Something like that, pet.  So, visiting your friend again?"  To say he was angry was an understatement.  The charade they had devised was elaborate all right.  They 

even bought a bloody headstone to complete the picture.  Had to give the bitch credit, she knew how to act.

"Yeah.  But I'm heading home soon."  She stood in front of him, jacket flowing about her body in the wind.  "Wanna get something to drink?  I'm feeling a little parched."  He hated the way she smiled at him.  As though she actually cared for him.  But he knew better.  Time to end this twisted game.

"Sure thing.  But I gotta do something first."

"What's that?"  She never saw the punch coming.  He connected with her face, his other hand on her shoulder, twirling her around.  As the momentum spun her 

around, Spike grabbed the coat away from her body.  Buffy hit the ground, looking up in shock.  She saw Spike as he casually slipped his coat on, completing the 

picture for her.

"Rocco?  What are you doing?"  She felt uncomfortable when she saw his smile.  The grin.  It looked so familiar.  The laugh, however, made her shiver.

"Still on that, eh?"  He pulled the coat closer around his body, the red shirt only visible by the collar.  "Sorry, luv.  Name's not Rocco."  He paused for effect.  He 

wanted her to understand what was going on.  "It's Spike."  Buffy felt her heart sink, fear filling her being.  He remembered his name, but he was treating her as a 

hostile.  As an enemy.

"You remember?"  Spike scoffed at her comment.  She was coming clean.  But it was too late.

"Yeah.  With a little help from my friend."  Buffy was confused.  Who could he have possibly meant?  Buffy got up from the ground slowly, never taking her eyes off 

Spike.

"Look, we should go see Giles.  He'll be able to help you."  Another disconcerting laugh.

"Yeah.  Like he did when he hid these from me?"  He tossed the notebook to Buffy's feet.  Buffy didn't like where this was all heading.  "You know, I'm gonna 

enjoy this."

"Enjoy what?"  Buffy backed up slowly; uncomfortable with the look Spike was giving her now.

"Killing you, you stupid bint."  He never stopped smiling as he spoke.  Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat.  This couldn't be happening.  Not now.  Not when 

she was so close to getting him back.

"Spike, you don't have to do this.  You're not a monster.  Let's just go see Giles so we can fix this."  Spike began laughing softly now.  Buffy felt a mix of confusion 

and trepidation sweep over her.

"Not a monster?  How's this, then?"  Spike tilted his head, his face changing, morphing.  Buffy's mouth dropped open as she saw the sight.  His forehead became lumpy, his teeth grew.  However, his eyes didn't turn yellow.  They remained dark blue.  She couldn't speak; only stand there in shock.  He was a vampire, but he 

was alive.  Her mind was being bombarded with too much information.  She didn't know what to do.  

Spike smiled, seeing the shock and confusion on her face.  He was pleased with himself.  This time he had the upper hand.  He grinned at her, the moonlight 

twinkling in his eyes.  "Alright, bitch.  Dying time's here."

_To be continued_


	7. The Doctor is out

Title:  The Doctor is out

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  R (Violence and language)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to Fool for Love, The Gift and Smashed.  Oh, and go reread Falling into You or you're gonna miss out.

Summary:  Seventh part of Falling into You series.  

Status:  Finished (Part VII of ?)

She looked on, seeing Spike lunging at her.  Her instinct clicked as soon as her brain processed the image.  Prospective lover was put on hold as the Slayer came to the forefront.  She moved quickly, her hands, grappling with his, almost as if was a test of strength, as if they were trying to find out which one was truly the stronger.  Buffy's mind finally caught up with the cacophony of images that she had just been submerged in, regaining her ability to speak.  "Spike, we don't have to do this."  She couldn't take her eyes away from his face.  His vampiric face.  And his deep blue eyes staring back at her in hatred.

"Like hell we don't."  Spike couldn't help but smile at her.  The stupid tart was trying to plead for her life.  He was going to enjoy this.  "Gonna show you what happens when you play with a man's emotions, bitch."  Spike flipped her hands away from his, his hands landing on her chest, forcefully pushing her off her feet.  Buffy fell backward, her hands splayed out to brace the impact.  She looked up, expecting Spike to attack her while she was down.  Instead, he just stood there, looking at her, that spiteful grin still on his face.

"What are you waiting for?"  Buffy didn't know why she said it, but it was out there.  She hated being here.  She hated the fact that she was being played with once again.  Her love life was one big cosmic joke.  And now, the one she thought knew her the best was trying to end her life.  She expected Spike to deliver the deathblow, but it never came.  Instead, he stood there, his face relaxing back into his human persona.  However, his smile stayed.  That damn hateful smile.

"Uh uh.  You don't get it that easy."  Spike waved his hand at her, indicating for her to get up.  "I want to relish every moment until I hear your last gasp."  Buffy slowly got up; still on the defensive in case Spike was lying.  She regained her composure, once again on her feet.

"I'm not going to fight you, Spike.  I only want to help you."  Spike laughed when he heard this.  Buffy couldn't take it anymore, his hatred hurting her now.  "Stop, please."  Her voice was a whisper, sadness seeping into every word.  Spike looked her over, not understanding her reaction.  According to Doc, she wanted him dead.  According to his visions, she hated him.  So, why was she acting like this?  Like she was truly upset by his actions.  Because she was still playing the same game.  The one that would lead to him being turned over to the Council.  The one where she would betray him.  The one where she would break his heart.

"Fine then.  Fight.  Don't fight."  Spike's face went back into vampire mode.  However, his eyes remained human.  Buffy hated seeing him like that.  It was almost as if he was taunting her.  Showing her that the man and the monster were one and the same.  Maybe they always were.  The smile disappeared from Spike's face, a serious tone now encompassing it.  "Don't make much of a difference to me.  Either way, I'm putting you in the ground."

Giles gathered his weapons into a bag, Xander grabbing an ax from Buffy's weapons trunk.  If Doc was somehow behind Spike's sudden reappearance, they had to know for what purpose.  Buffy's life might well depend on it.  The women looked on, uneasy about what was going on.  Anya moved to Xander's side, trying to dissuade him.  "Don't go, Xander."  He turned back to see the concern and fear in her eyes.

"We have to go, An.  If Doc has something to do with Spike, we gotta know.  Who knows what those two have planned for Buffy."  Dawn spoke immediately upon hearing Xander's accusation.

"Spike has nothing to do with Doc, Xander!"  Even now, Xander still didn't trust Spike.  After everything he had done for them.  After he had given his life to save the world, to save her.  "How dare you say that?!?"  Tara slowly placed her hands on Dawn's shoulders, gently squeezing them.  Xander moved over to Dawn, ax to his side.

"Dawn, Spike's a killer.  And now he's into something with Doc?  That can only mean bad news for Buff…"  Dawn hit his hand away, hating the accusation he was making.  Spike would never hurt Buffy, would never hurt her.  Dawn was about to defend Spike, but Giles interrupted.

"We don't have time for this."  He moved toward Xander, motioning him to take the weapons bag.  Giles turned his attention to Dawn.  "Dawn, we don't know whether Spike is himself or not.  This Doc fellow may have done something to him, something that Spike might not be able to fight."  Frustration was clearly visible on Dawn's face.  "Until we know for certain, we have to assume the worst."  Dawn sighed, her demeanor relaxing but still angered.

"But Spike's changed."  Giles softly smiled at Dawn, wishing for the time when he was that innocent.

"Dawn."  She looked up to Giles, noting the soft smile on his face.  "I promise, we'll figure out what's going on.  Until then, just be careful around Spike if he comes around, okay?"  Dawn wanted to object, but knew that Giles was only looking out for her best interest.  Even though she knew in her heart that Spike would never hurt her, or anyone else, she decided to reluctantly agree with Giles to put him at ease.

"Okay."  He nodded his head at her, then looked at Tara and Anya.  "Stay with her and wait for Buffy to come back.  Tara answered.

"Of…of course."  Giles gave Tara a comforting smile.  She still got nervous when the situation got tense.  But she didn't run.  For that, she would always have Giles' respect.  Giles turned to Xander, seeing Anya speaking to him.

"Don't get killed."  Anya was holding Xander's free hand, a forced smile on her face.  She didn't feel like smiling right now, not knowing what her husband to be was about to do.  Xander gently chuckled.

"Promise.  No getting killed."  He leaned in closer, gently kissing Anya on the lips.  He pulled back, a smile on his face.  "Still got an altar to get to."  Anya genuinely smiled now.  She'd marry Xander.  For better or worse.  However, she knew the truth.  It would only be the better she'd see from him.  Xander turned to Giles, handing him the bag.  "Ready, Watcher man?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."  Giles walked out of the house, not looking back.  "And stop calling me that.  Make me sound like a bloody peeping tom."  Xander laughed at Giles' joke, following him out.

Buffy could only dodge so fast.  It seemed as though Spike was quicker now.  Maybe it was the fact that she hadn't fought him in so long, but she could no longer read his moves.  She thought he was going to throw a right, but instead she found herself jumping a leg sweep.   The inability to read him was causing her to make sloppy mistakes.  While she didn't want to hit him, she found herself almost having to out of necessity.  Had it been Angelus, she could have eventually gotten the better.  But Spike.  The angry, hate filled Spike.  She found herself hoping for a miracle.  She found herself thinking back to the night when she asked him about how he killed the two Slayers.  Maybe Spike was finally there.  Maybe he was having his one good day.

"Come on, Slayer.  Put your heart into it!"  It almost sounded like he was enjoying himself.  Buffy couldn't help it, but she found the anger building in her as well.  She finally let her fist fly, connecting with his jaw.  Spike's head spun to the right, Buffy still holding her fist up, as though she didn't believe what she had done.  Spike turned his head back, a grin on his face.  "About time you showed your true colors."  Buffy was still in shock when Spike delivered a roundhouse kick to her face.  She stumbled backward, trying to curtail the hatred building in her.  She wouldn't resort to hurting him.  To killing him.  She couldn't.  Could she?

"Spike, I don't want to hurt you."  Before she could turn back around to face him, she felt his arm wrapped around her neck, slowly yet forcefully constricting around her throat.  His other hand was gently tousling her hair, almost playfully.

"Don't look like I gotta worry about that, luv."  He whispered in her ear, his new breath sending shivers up her spine.  "When I think you're about to show me the real you, you end up saying the same tripe."  He squeezed harder, his voice swelling.  "I'm getting tired of these damn games, bitch."  He pulled her hair back, her face looking to the heavens.  "Aren't you?"  Buffy's leg swung backward, her foot landing squarely to his groin.  Spike quickly loosened his grip on her, a sharp exhale hitting the back of her neck.  Buffy's hand instinctively went to her throat, massaging the soreness there.  She looked back to see Spike huddled over, one knee on the ground.  Buffy spoke, noting the hoarseness in her voice.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about.  But if I have to beat some sense into you, I will."  Spike looked up, his smile now gone.  All that was left on his face was abhorrence.

"Give it to me good, Buffy."  Buffy felt her fists clench.  She remembered those words.  He had spoken them in the alley behind the Bronze.  When he tried to kiss her.  When she pushed him away, throwing money in his face.  He remembered.  There was no doubting it now.  He remembered.  And he wanted her dead because of it.  She had to know.  She had to make sure.

"Spike, you remember, don't you?"  She could see the hint of confusion on his face as he pulled himself up.  "You remember that night, when…"  She didn't want to say the words.  To her, that was a different Buffy.  A different Spike.  Two people that hadn't realized that they were meant for more.  More than this.  But, she had to rekindle the past in order to insure the present.  "When we talked about you killing Slayers."  Spike stood there, motionless, contemplating her words.  He wasn't sure where she was going with this.  But he'd play along.  Killing her now or later, it didn't matter.  She'd be dead by the end of the night.

"What of it?"  Buffy stayed her distance, eyeing his reaction.  His posture was still defensive, but relaxed.  She decided to test her theory out.

"Is there anything else you remember?  Anything about us?"  Spike laughed at her question.  She wanted to know what he knew.  What the hell.  Tell her what he remembered.

"Oh yeah.  I remember enough."  Buffy's response startled him.

"Do you remember the first time we kissed?"  Buffy could see that he didn't.  Now was her chance.  It was a small opportunity, but she had to use what was available to her.  "The first time we made love?  Do you remember…"  Spike spoke, halting her questions.

"You're lying.  You're trying to confuse me like you did earlier."  His voice was softer now, as though he wanted to believe her but knew better of it.

"When did I confuse you?"  Buffy had no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh yeah.  You don't know."  Spike began to shake the insecurity away, the memory of kissing Buffy in her living room, in his doorway, too much for him to cope with.  "Let me guess, you kiss people you wanna kill, innit right?  Like a bloody black widow you are!"  Buffy could feel the fury emanating from his voice.

"I only kiss people that I care about.  People I love."  Spike hated her for looking at him like that.  Like she cared.  About him.  He had heard enough.  Time to finish what he came here for.

"Sorry.  I'm not playing anymore, Slayer."  Buffy was about to speak but saw him advance quickly to her position.  He was telling the truth.  He was done listening.  And with that, Buffy's chance to get through to him.

"So, you're sure this is the way?"  Giles and Xander walked down the sidewalk, pretty much vacated since it was approaching the dead of night.

"Yeah.  No way I'm gonna forget that place.  Smelled like grandpa."  Xander decided to quip to alleviate the tension in the air.  "Like grandpa wanting to kill you."  Giles reluctantly chuckled.  Xander and Giles knew there was a possibility that Doc was behind Spike's reappearance.  However, the why was still missing from the picture.  Spike was just a vampire.  No, that wasn't true anymore.  He was living.  He had preternatural strength and speed.  But he wasn't a vampire.  Then what was he?  Giles knew that only Doc had the answer for that question.

"There's a very good chance that he'll be waiting for us.  If he planned this far ahead, knowing of Spike's reappearance."  Xander nodded.  There was a chance that this could be a trap.  But they had to go.  For Buffy.  If Spike were indeed a threat to Buffy, they would eliminate the threat, even if it ruined their relationship with the Slayer.  With their friend.

"Yeah.  But the last time I met that geezer, I put a sword in his chest.  How hard can it be to do again?"  Xander laughed softly, not quite believing himself.  He did impale Doc, but it didn't do much.  As far as they knew, there might not be a method to kill him if the situation warranted it.  What would they do then?

"Well, I gather we're about to find out."  Giles pointed across the street, indicating the building with the sign Xander had told him about.  Xander took a deep breath, wondering how he got back to this place.

"I guess so."  They slowly walked across the street, unsure of what they'd find.

Buffy kept up as well as she could, but Spike ultimately got the better of her.  Her lip was now bleeding, as well as her forehead.  Spike didn't have a scratch on him.  The only change in his demeanor was the fact that he was no longer smiling.  He was ready to end this.  "Itty bitty Slayer.  Can't even handle something that's beneath you."  Buffy was in a defensive stance, her arms close to her body.  She turned to Spike but as she did, he disappeared from her vision.  She scanned the cemetery only to be greeted with a fist to her midsection.  Buffy exhaled sharply while she swung her right hand, connecting with his jaw.  Spike took the blow, his hands now grasping her arms.  "You're pathetic, you know that?"  Before Buffy could answer, Spike flung her across the cemetery, her trajectory abruptly halted when she crashed into a headstone.  It crumbled almost like a graham cracker, her body registering the pain shooting through her nerve endings.  She looked down at the debris, seeing the name that had graced it.  

"Spike."  Talk about irony.  Buffy looked up to see Spike lunging at her.  She quickly rolled out of the way, Spike tumbling into the debris.  Buffy scrambled to her feet, her hand reaching for her pocket.  Unfortunately, her pocket was now on Spike.  And with the pocket, her stake.  Spike looked up, seeing the motion Buffy had made as she got up.  Spike reached into the coat pocket, pulling out the stake she was looking for.

"Looking for this, Slayer?"  Buffy turned to Spike, noting that he was now holding the stake in her hand.  Buffy eyed him curiously as he examined the piece of wood in his palm.  "Hmm, wonder what it would be like?"  Buffy didn't know what he was babbling about.

"What what would be like?"  Spike never turned his gaze from the stake.

"Killing a Slayer with her own stake."  Before she could answer, Spike reared back and launched the wooden stake at Buffy.  She barely moved out of the way to avoid the impact to her chest.  Her arm was a different story, however.  She felt the stake violently pull a hunk of flesh from her left arm.  She yelled in pain, her hand gripping the now bloody wound.  She looked up, seeing that he was smiling once again.  "Ouch.  Looks like that stings.  Let daddy kiss it and make it better."  Buffy knew there was no turning back now.  If she let him win, he'd only go after her friends, her family.  She wouldn't let that happen.  Even if it meant losing him again.

"Come and get it then, you son of a bitch!"  Spike's smile slowly faded from his face, noting the anger in her voice.  He had gotten to her.  Good.

"Now that's my girl."  He ran in her direction, his body crashing into hers, as they plowed through another tombstone.

Giles slowly opened the door, Xander standing right behind him, ax gripped in both hands.  Giles was now holding a crossbow, the bag slung across his shoulder.  Both men slowly, carefully, made their way into Doc's shop.  Xander, feeling the nervousness beginning to envelop him, let out a trademark Xanderism.  "Think we should have rung the bell?"  Giles turned back, his look one of gravity.

"Maybe."  Giles was nervous as well.  They walked deeper into the shop, Giles noting the texts strewn about the room.  He caught only a glimpse, but if he didn't know better, he would have sworn that Doc was interested in the Council.  After all, the majority of the texts were the same ones he had read when he had first started down the path to becoming a Watcher.  But why would Doc care about the Council?  As if Doc had heard his thought, Giles and Xander heard a voice from behind them.

"Ah.  I wasn't expecting visitors."  Xander turned around quickly, ax held slightly over his shoulders.  "Don't bother, lad.  Last time, I let you get the better of me."  Doc casually tossed his coat onto a table, strolling past Giles and Xander.  Giles trained his crossbow on Doc, his gaze never wavering.

"We're here because…"  Doc interrupted Giles, never looking at him.

"You're here because of the vampire.  Or, ex-vampire?  Bother.  Hate this feeling, as though I've forgotten something."  Giles felt his finger coming down on the trigger but relaxed his grip.  He couldn't pull until he had gotten the information from the demented individual in front of them.

"That's right."  Xander stood to Giles' side, the ax still raised.  "And you're going to tell us what you know of it.  Everything."  Doc ruefully chuckled.

"Is that right?"  Doc moved over to the fireplace, stretching his hands out, savoring the heat expelling the cold from his body.  "You humans can be rather humorous when you want to be.  Thinking you can stop that which you can't.  Very arrogant, if I say so myself."  Xander shook his head.

"Uh, was that English?"  Doc turned around, a look of puzzlement on his face.  Humans could be rather dumb as well, couldn't they?  Giles interrupted the awkward silence.

"No sudden moves now.  Tell us what we came here for or this bolt ends up in your head."  Giles knew his threat was shallow.  Evidently, so did Doc.

"Let's see how far you're willing to go with this."  Doc lunged at the two, Giles instinctively pulling the trigger.  The arrow plunged into Doc's head, shattering his glasses.  Both men hoped against hope that it would be enough to slow him down.  It wasn't.  "Well.  This is an unpleasant feeling."  Doc smiled as he quickly pulled the arrow out of his forehead.  "I'll just have to return it in kind."

Buffy hated feeling this way.  She had felt something like it once.  With Angel.  When he had first lost his soul.  But she had grown to hate him.  To the point that she could kill him.  The same couldn't be said for Spike.  Her emotions were tearing her apart as they fought.  She wanted to finally tell him how she truly felt, but now.  Now, it wasn't an option.  Her only option was survival.  For her friends.  For her family.  For herself.  Blood trickled down her left arm, but she blocked the pain, focusing on her assailant.  Her former lover.  Spike's leg flew forward to her midsection, but she dodged to the right, her own leg swinging over his, connecting with his face.  Hard.  Spike flew back onto the ground.  He swiped under his eye, noticing the newly formed gash, blood seeping from it.  He looked up, seeing the anger in her eyes.  But there was something else.  Was she crying?  Crying for her bloody life, no doubt.

"Ooh.  Baby's finally ready to play."  He flipped up to his feet but as he did, Buffy ducked down low, her leg sweeping his out from under him.  Spike fell back to the ground once again.  Buffy lunged on top of him, her arms pinning him to the ground.  Her emotions got the best of her.

"I hate you!  Why did you have to do this?!?  Why now?!?"  Spike eyed her, surprise on his face.  She was on the verge of tears now.  "When I was so close to getting you back?!?  Why?"  Her voice became a whisper, her gaze still intense, full of anger and sorrow.  It didn't make sense.  She should be angry.  But sad?  Something wasn't right.  Spike felt himself remembering.  A kitchen.  He was in a kitchen.  And she was there.  And she had been crying.

_Promise me one thing?_

_Anything for you, luv.  You know that._

_Come back to me after you stop Willow.  Promise me you'll come back._

_I will.  For Dawnie and for you._

Now he was kissing her, she welcoming it in kind.  He shook the memory away, looking back up at the woman almost to tears on top of him.  Something definitely wasn't right.  No one could be that good at maintaining a charade.  He had to get some space.  He struggled under her, his arms eventually working their way onto her shoulders, flipping her over him.  

Spike hurried to his feet, turning around quickly to see his dispatcher.  However, she looked anything but.  Her lips quivered, a lone tear slowly moved down her cheek, blood smattered over her face and arm.  She looked less a killer and more a victim.  But Spike had to kill her.  She was the enemy.  She would hurt him, given the chance.  She would betray him.  Doc had said so.  And why would Doc lie to him?  After all, he was the one that had told him the truth.  But it all felt wrong now, looking at her in front of him.  She looked lost.  As though the world was ending.  Spike felt conflicted, but he kept the anger in his voice.  "A Slayer crying?  What is the world coming to?"  Buffy looked at him, hate now filling her being.

"Shut up and fight."  The sorrow tinted her voice, but he could feel the urgency, the rage, in her words.  She wanted to end this as well.  Fine.  Let the endgame begin.

"Fine with me, Slayer."  He slowly moved to her, Buffy standing awkwardly now, her hand covering her left arm.  The pain must be getting to her, but she gritted through it anyway.  As Spike moved in on her, a glint of light from the ground caught his eye.  He looked down, his pace slowing.  His eyes honed in on the object.  He bent over, palming the object in his hand.  The memories came again.

_I need you to keep this safe for me until I come back.  Can you do that for me?_

He was in their living room, the same room where she had kissed him when she tended to his wound, the one to his shoulder.  He was there with Dawn.

_Have you looked recently?_

_What do you mean?  Oh.  No, I haven't, li'l bit.  I've accepted what I am now.  But it's kinda a good luck charm; I guess that's why I keep it._

_Well, we'll check when you come back then.  Once you stop the big baddie, even though it's Willow.  We'll check, you and me.  I'm sure you'll be in there after all this._

_It's a promise, niblet._

That name once again.  Willow.  What connection did he have with Willow?  And why was he remembering such things.  Such tender moments.  About his foe and her little sister.  He looked down at the pocket mirror, his reflection startling him.  His face reverted back to human form, his thoughts now pulling him apart.  He didn't know what to do.  All he could do was say what was on his mind.  "I gave this to Dawnie?  Right?"  Buffy didn't expect this.  When he returned to his human guise, it had startled her, but the question left her hoping.  Hoping that he was remembering.  "That's real, right?"

She stayed her distance, not wanting to startle him.  She answered his question.  "Yeah.  You gave that to Dawn the same night you…"  She stopped herself.  He shouldn't hear this.  But keeping the truth from him had led to their current situation.  He needed the truth.  "The same night you died."  Spike's gaze moved from the mirror, focusing on Buffy.  He didn't see hate anymore.  He only saw sorrow.  Sorrow and regret.

"I died?"  He couldn't comprehend her statement.  "But, I'm right here."  Nothing made sense.

"That's why we got the headstone.  As a remembrance."  Buffy's voice wavered as she spoke.  "Then when we saw you at the corner mart, we couldn't believe it.  You'd come back.  But you didn't remember.  Didn't remember us."  Spike noted that her voice had grown serene, gentle.  "Didn't remember me."  It made sense.  The way Dawn had hugged him when he first saw her.  The way she cried in his arms.  She missed him.  Spike looked at Buffy, seeing that she was being sincere in her words.  She still stayed her distance, but she told him what he needed to hear.  But what if it was all another lie?  He didn't know what was real anymore.

"Who's Willow?"  Buffy looked at him, wondering why he asked the question.  "Keep on remembering having to stop someone called Willow."  He was remembering the night.  The night that he died.

"Yeah.  Willow Rosenberg.  Powerful witch.  And my friend."  Spike looked on, surprised at the revelation.

"Wait.  I had to stop your friend?  From doing what?"

"From ending the world."  Spike chuckled harshly.

"Right.  Like I could do that."  Buffy answered him before he could continue.

"You did."  He could hear the seriousness in her voice.  "And you died for it."  Spike shook his head in disbelief.  It was too much to soak in.  He had died because of one of her friends.  Because she wanted to destroy the world.  He needed more than words.

"Don't suppose you have any proof, Slayer?"  Buffy looked at him, still surprised that Spike didn't believe her.  If he wanted proof, she'd have to give it to him.

"Think you can stop the kill fest long enough for me to show you?"  Spike nodded, feeling almost ashamed when he heard the spiteful tone in her voice.  "Okay, then.  Let's go get you some proof."

Xander was huddled in the corner, still trying to shake off the blow that Doc had delivered to him.  He looked up to see Giles swinging a short sword at Doc to no avail.  No matter how hard he tried, Giles couldn't connect.  It was almost as though Doc was toying with them.  Almost like a spider does when its prey is ensnared in its web.  Xander moved to his feet, grabbing the ax that had found its way into the wall.  He turned around to see Doc's elongated tongue push Giles across the room, onto a table.  Xander took the opportunity that presented itself.  He charged Doc, swinging the head downward to Doc's neck.  Unfortunately, Doc scurried out of the way, the ax now finding itself embedded into the floorboard.

"Almost had me there."  Doc grabbed Xander's wrist, wresting it from the handle.  He applied pressure, enough to make the break audible.  Xander screamed out, feeling his wrist no longer responding to his thoughts.  Doc swung Xander in front of himself, looking up at him.  "Let's see how many more bones I can break before you lose consciousness."  Xander was about to voice protest when Giles approached Doc from behind, a vial in his hand.  Doc must have saw Xander's eyes because he pushed Xander to the ground, quickly turning around.  Not fast enough to avoid the contents of the vial spilling over his face.  Doc was disoriented by the fluid covering his eyes.  Xander acted quickly, grabbing Doc with his good arm, locking it around his throat.  Giles began to sigh relief until he saw the smile on Doc's face.  "Ghara blood?  Thought you'd be able to paralyze me?"  Doc flung Xander over himself and toward Giles.  Giles barely moved out of the way in time to avoid the impact.  As Giles looked back to Doc's position, he saw that the madman was already on him, a snare on his lip.  His hand came down on Giles' throat, forcing him on the ground.  "If that's the best you had, I'm disappointed."  Giles spoke, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Afraid it was."  Doc chuckled softly at the Watcher's humor.  Giles tilted his head back, looking at Xander.  The lad was out cold; his body huddled over a table.

"Don't worry.  He's still alive."  Giles turned back, his gaze falling on Doc's smirking face.  "Question is, for how long."

They stood in front of the hospital; the same one Buffy had been to a few days ago to visit Willow.  To say the trip from the cemetery to the hospital was awkward was definitely an understatement.  Buffy kept on looking over to him, thinking it was all a ploy for her to lower her defenses.  Based on the looks he was giving her, he was most likely thinking the same thing.  She didn't want to suspect him, but after their violent encounter, she had no choice.

Spike saw that she was still holding her arm, the one that he had wounded with her stake.  The blood had dried on her arm, the wound pretty much clotted over now.  He wanted to say something to comfort her, but his doubts got the better of him.  She might still be playing the game.  But the look on her face gave no evidence of ill will.  "So, we're here, why?"  Buffy slowly walked past him, through the sliding glass doors.  Spike followed, not knowing what else to do.

"Come on."  Buffy walked further into the hospital, her guard somewhat down.  Spike wouldn't do anything inside.  And if he did, he'd just give her another reason.  Another reason to finally kill him.  They walked past the reception desk, not noticing their surroundings.  However, someone noticed them.

"My God."  Buffy and Spike stopped, turning to see the nurse with a look of awe on her face.  It was the same receptionist that was here when she had come to see Willow.  Apparently, she remembered Buffy.  "What happened to you?"  By that, she meant the wound in Buffy's arm, the cuts on her face.

"Hi, Doris.  Just here to visit Willow."  The look on the nurse's face was one of disbelief.

"But, it's after visiting hours.  And we need to take you to see a doctor, right now."  Doris' voice was urgent as she moved from behind the reception desk.  She walked toward Buffy before she had the chance to object.  Doris looked to Spike.  "What happened to your girlfriend, young man?"  Girlfriend?  Spike didn't know what Buffy was to him anymore.  He played along, wanting to get answers as quickly as possible.

"We ran into a group of thugs.  Fought them off.  But the li'l lady got nicked up."  Spike looked down at Buffy, seeing that she was avoiding his gaze.  He couldn't lie to himself.  He deserved it.  But what did it matter?  As far as he knew, Doc was still telling the truth.  But, then, why would Buffy be doing all this?

"Looks like you both did."  Doris pointed to Spike's cheek, noting the gash that Buffy had given him.

"It's nothing.  Just take care of her."  Spike saw the confused look on Buffy's face.  She didn't understand why he suddenly gave a damn about her well being.  Doris gently grasped Buffy's good arm, leading her to the infirmary, most likely to get her bandaged up.  Buffy stopped for a moment, walking back to Spike.

"Room 120."  He could hear the hurt in her voice.  "If you do anything to hurt her, I will kill you."  She whispered her last statement before she went off with Doris.  Spike stood there for a moment, unsure of what had just transpired.  He actually felt marred by her words.  He didn't want to think about it.  Instead he walked down the hall, looking for the room number.  His gaze moved back and forth between the walls until he spotted the room number.

"Alright then.  Let's see what's behind door number one."  He took a deep breath, slowly walking up to the door, peering through the glass window.  He stopped in front of the door, his hand on the handle.  The sight in front of him made him unable to move.  She lay there, her hair as red as that night.  But her demeanor was one of peace, of serenity.

_Yes!  Power!  Power!_

He was back in the cemetery, streams of energy falling from the heavens.  Falling onto her.  Into her.  Willow.  He saw himself walk through the energy wake, his skin cracking and peeling.  He was walking toward her.

_Funny thing about power.  It's fleeting._

Then he was feeding off her.  Trying to siphon enough energy from Willow to prevent her from maintaining the hell gate.  And then he was back in the hospital, his hand on the door handle.  Standing in front of her door.  He wanted to open the door, but he feared what would happen if he did.  What else he might see.  What else he might remember.  He was afraid that Buffy was telling the truth.  Because if she was, he had just brutally attacked his friend.  Maybe something more.  

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but the footfalls jarred him from his thought.  He turned to see Buffy walking toward him, her left arm now bandaged.  Also, her face had been cleaned up, a small cotton bandage on her forehead.  She walked up to him, keeping out of arm's distance.  "There's your proof."  He hated the way she spat her words at him.  But he had no right to judge.  Not after what he had done.

"How long has she been like this?"  Buffy turned to the window, looking in on her friend.

"Over three months."  Three months.  The words reverberated in Spike's head, finally grasping what she said.  Three months.  He had been gone for probably three months.  He had been dead.  But why was he alive now?  Only one man would have the answers.  Because Buffy didn't.

"Doc."  Buffy finally turned to look at Spike, not believing her ears.

"What did you say?"

"How could he show me something so different than what you're showing me?"  She could see that he had doubt, despair in his words.  "And why do they both feel true?"  He felt her hand on his chin, gently turning his face to her.  At first, he flinched, unsure of what she was doing.  But when he saw her, her eyes, he knew that this was right.  That it was true.

_Don't you give up on me, Spike.  Not now.  Not now._

_Tell me about Heaven?_

_I don't remember much.  I remember that I was happy.  Very happy._

_Think they'll have room for a damned soul like me?_

Buffy's words floated back into his consciousness, his memories fading away.  "You okay?  Lost you there for a bit."  Spike slowly pulled away from her hand, ashamed by the way she was treating him.  By the way he had treated her.  He looked back to Willow, not wanting to look at Buffy.

"S'okay.  Just remembering something."  One more question kept nagging him.  He had to hear the answer.  "Why didn't you tell me?"  Buffy spoke, concern in her voice.

"Tell you what?"

"The notes.  Why'd you hide them from me?"  Buffy never stopped looking at him.

"Giles was afraid that getting the truth this early might mess up your memory.  You know, like maybe you wouldn't be able to handle it."  Spike nodded, remembering back to his encounter with Doc's Eye of Veritas.  The memories had definitely made him uncomfortable, unsure.  "Anyway, Giles said that your memory would come back in time."

"Did he say how long?"

"He wasn't sure.  But as long as they came back, we'd wait for you."  She meant her.  She'd wait for him.  She still had to tell him.  The tenderness in her voice triggered his memory once again.  Giles was right.  It was all coming back now.

_I don't want to lose you._

The tears flowed freely from Buffy's eyes, onto him.  He felt unusual.  As though he wasn't all there, lying in her arms.

_Made you and Dawn a promise.  We'll be together again, Buffy.  I promised._

Spike softly chuckled at his words.  Buffy looked at him, a puzzled look on her face.  "What's so funny?"  He didn't turn to look at her, keeping his eyes on Willow.

"Sorry, just remembered something."  He kept his promise.  He came back for them.  For her.  Buffy.  But now he found himself wondering if it was truly the best thing.  With everything that had just transpired during the night, maybe things would have been better if she had only the memories of him.  Of a better life.  Of a better man.

"Anything monumental?"  Spike finally turned to look at her, not following the question.  "The memory."

"Oh."  He lied.  "Nothing much.  Just that Monty Python's right funny."  Buffy gave him a quizzical look.  "Holy Grail was bloody hilarious."  Buffy gave him a small smile, knowing that he was having trouble adjusting to his new memories.  It was true.  He was having trouble with these newfound memories.  Because they conflicted with what Doc had told him.  He needed to get the truth.  "I'm going now."  He walked past her, Buffy's demeanor now one of bewilderment.

"Wait."  He felt her hand fall on his arm, gently pulling him back.  "Where are you going?"  He didn't look back.

"I'm gonna pay the doc a visit."  He felt her grip tighten as she heard his words.

"Not alone, you're not."  Buffy was hesitant to let him go back there.  The last time Spike had spoken to Doc, Spike was determined to kill her.  She wouldn't let him go alone again.  "I'm going with you."

"Like hell you are, Slayer."  He pulled his arm away from her, facing her now.  "I'm not gonna let you go in there with your arm all torn up like that."  Buffy looked at him accusingly.

"Well, I have you to thank for that, don't I?"  She didn't mean to say it but the words were out before she could process what was happening.  She hated being so emotional around him.  Spike opened his mouth, about to say something.  But he didn't.  Instead, he turned around and walked back down the hall toward the exit.  "Oh, nice one, Buffy."  She hurried after him, Spike hearing the footfalls behind him.  He turned around, ready to confront the Slayer.

"Go home, Buffy.  This is something I have to do alone."  Buffy stood there, wondering exactly how much he had remembered.  Because he was starting to irritate the hell out of her.

"And what?  Believe that madman's lies again?  Come after me again?  Try and put me in the ground again?"  Spike sighed, his emotions in utter turmoil.  He wanted to hit her.  He wanted to hold her.  He wanted her.  But he couldn't.  Not until he was sure of his memories.

"They weren't lies, pet."  His hands were in his coat pockets, balled up in frustration.  "Those were my memories he showed me."

"How did he show you?"

"He had some kind of sphere.  Called it the Eye of Veritas."

"Then it probably wasn't true."

"So, you didn't call me an evil, disgusting thing in front of the museum after you leveled me out?"  Buffy stood there, stunned by Spike's implication.  She remembered that night.  It was right after their intimate kiss at the Bronze and before their night of abandon in the desolate building.  She did think of him like that before.  But that was before her emotions got the better of her.  Before she realized what he truly meant to her.

"Spike."  Her eyes and her voice told him everything he needed to know.

"Right, then.  I'm going."  He turned his back to her, about to walk away when Buffy violently turned him back around.

"Damn it!  Would you just stop and listen to me!"  Spike eyed her, a look of curiosity and concern on his face.  "Okay.  I did say that.  But that was a different time.  A different me."  She was struggling for the right words, to make him understand that things were different now.  But after the cemetery incident, it felt as though everything she believed was now under question.  "I…I…"  Spike didn't want to listen anymore.

"Fine.  Come.  Don't come.  Either way, I'm getting some answers."  He pulled away from her once again, walking to the exit.  Buffy didn't speak.  She just followed him out of the hospital, knowing that things would never be the same between them ever again.

Xander's eyes fluttered open, his eyes falling onto the ground.  He tried to move his hands, but found that they wouldn't respond.  At first, he thought that Doc had broken his other wrist, but he felt his fingers wiggle against something hard.  Something hard and cold.  He looked up to see his hands binded by shackles, attached to them a chain connected to the ceiling.  Looking down, he saw that his feet were tied as well, but they dangled in midair.  "Giles?"  He looked around, eventually finding Giles hanging to the right of him, apparently unconscious.  Blood was trickling from his forehead, his glasses nowhere to be seen.  "Giles."  No response.  "Giles."

"Wouldn't want to wake him, young man."  Xander turned to the front of the room, seeing Doc standing in the curtains that covered the doorway.  Apparently, they were in the back room of his shop.  Chained and strung up.  Never a good combination.  Doc began to walk toward Xander.  "He's going to need his energy for the next round."  Xander didn't want to ask.

"Next round of what?"  Doc's maniacal smile graced his face, his voice a constant monotone.

"Of torture.  I still owe you two for what you did to my glasses.  Had them for the longest time."

"Sorry.  Next time we'll avoid all eye accessories."  Doc chuckled, his eyes now dark black.  His hand glided over Xander's chest, not touching.

"You know, I was going to kill you quickly."  Doc's hand flew to Xander's chest, the palm hitting the lower right portion of his torso.  Xander yelled out in anguish.  "But I really loved those glasses."  Xander coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, onto his chin.  "I just broke your rib."  Doc's hand cupped Xander's chin, lifting it up so they saw eye to eye.  "Let's see how many I can get through before you lose consciousness.  The Watcher went through five."  

"Go to hell."  A devious grin and a jubilant voice was Xander's reward.  

"Let's begin, shall we?"

They walked in silence, each not knowing what to say to the other.  There were no words for what had just happened.  And there were no words for what to say next.  Spike reached into his jacket pocket, about to fish out a cigarette when he realized what he was doing.  The laugh startled Buffy.

"What is it?"  Spike turned to her, an amusing smile on his face.

"Wanted a smoke.  But I forgot that this was your jacket."  Buffy meekly smiled at him.

"It's yours, actually.  It just had all my stuff in it."  Spike flashed back to the events that had led to him wearing the jacket once again.  He shook the unwelcome memory, looking over to the small figure walking next to him, his eyes focusing on the bandage on her arm.  He knew there was no apology for what he had done to her.

"You want it back?"  Buffy shook her head, a small smile on her face.

"It's okay.  You should have it.  Just don't steal all my gum though."  They shared a small laugh before the silence returned.  They walked for a while before Buffy spoke.  "You sure you know where this guy's place is?"  Spike nodded, his fingers gently tracing the pack of gum in his pocket.

"Yeah.  It's like I've been there before.  Oh, wait.  I have."  His reward for such a bad joke.  A soft giggle.

"That was terrible.  You know that, right?"

"Guess my memory's still wonky.  Thought that was right brilliant."  He turned to her, her eyes looking back at him.  Those dark green eyes.  He turned away, afraid of what might happen.  "God, I need a cigarette."  He could sense the disappointment in her voice as she spoke.

"Yeah.  Cigarette."  Buffy was about to speak again, but Spike interrupted her.

"Here it is."  Buffy peered at the door, noting the normality of the building.  And to think, a vicious demon lived in here.  Will wonders never cease?  "Remember, this guy doesn't think highly of you, so…"  Buffy finished his sentence.

"Yeah, yeah.  Don't say anything.  Stay behind you and wait till you get your answers."  Spike nodded, a smirk on his face.  "Then I beat the crap out of him."

"As long as we understand each other."  Buffy nodded at him.

"Perfectly."  She walked past him, into the front door, leaving Spike standing outside.

"Right."  Spike frowned as he followed after her.

Giles had regained consciousness when Doc broke Xander's second rib, the screams awakening him.  All Giles could do was watch as Doc continued up Xander's chest, the hideous snapping of bone against flesh chilling him to the very core.

"I'm impressed, lad.  Four ribs and you're still awake."  Xander hung there, breathing in short gasps, the pain around his lungs too much to bear.  "Want me to stop the pain?  I can."  Xander's eyes rolled up to see Doc, his head hanging down.  "Just tell me and I will."  Xander's mouth opened slightly, as though he was trying to say something.  Doc leaned in closer, wanting to hear the boy's plea before he ended his misery.  Unfortunately, no plea came.  Instead, Xander spit a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the old man's face, a slight smile playing across his face as he did so.  Even though he was going to die, he would go out fighting.  Doc stumbled backwards, stunned at the event.  He quickly wiped the liquid from his face with the back of his hand, a look of discontent on his face.  "Very well.  Let's keep going then.  But this time, let's start with the tongue and work our way down."

"Leave the boy alone."  Doc's hand quickly clasped around the Watcher's throat, a malevolent look on his face.

"Do not interrupt when people are talking."  His voice was almost serene as he began to squeeze Giles' throat tighter.  The gasps came faster as Giles felt the air being impeded from his lungs.  His eyes began to water, feeling the darkness coming once again.  "Promise you'll behave?"  Giles eyed the madman, feeling his fingernails tearing into his flesh now.  Before Giles could yield defeat, there was a noise from the front room.

"Oi, mate.  I'm back."  Doc removed his hand from Giles' throat, a huge gasp escaping his lips.

"Curious.  I didn't tell him where I live."  Doc turned back to the two battered men.  "Do be quiet now.  Or I'll make sure you'll welcome death when I'm done with you."  And with that, Doc walked slowly into the front of the shop, his tail swaying under his robe.

Spike closed the door behind him, Buffy standing a few feet away from him.  Spike slowly moved past her, calling out to Doc.  "Oi, mate.  I'm back."  Buffy looked around, a look of bewilderment on her face.  It looked almost like Giles had been here, with the texts strewn around the room.  She closed a book, holding it up to Spike.

"Heavy reading."  Spike nodded, noting that it was a Council text.  He was somewhat surprised that Buffy didn't recognize it.  After all, all Slayers were well versed in the intricacies of the Council.  But Buffy wasn't.  Or else she was feigning innocence.  Spike pushed the thought from his mind.  He had doubted her once and almost killed her.  Not again.  Not until he got the answers he needed from Doc.  He'd have to add another one to the list, though.  Why was Doc so interested in the Council?  This went far beyond knowing one's enemy.  It was though he was looking for something specific.  Before he could ponder the thought, Doc emerged from the back room, a smile on his face.  However, it quickly dissipated when he saw the Slayer standing in front of him.

"Well, this is unfortunate.  Thought you would have killed her by now."  Buffy placed the book back on the table, her anger building.

"What the hell did you do to him?"  Spike sighed, feeling frustrated yet familiar with Buffy's behavior.  After all, when did she ever listen to him?  His hand fell on her shoulder, as he slowly walked to her side.

"Glad you decided to stick with the plan, pet."  Buffy gave him a perturbed look before relenting.  She folded her arms, looking on as Spike began to speak.  "We need to talk."

"My boy.  Don't tell me the Slayer's filled your head with sweet lies."  He walked closer to Spike, staying far away from Buffy.  "Didn't I tell you she'd be your weakness?"  Doc began to move to the tables to Spike's right, as though he was trying to get in the way of something.

"Yeah, right."  Something was definitely odd now.  First the awkward motion to the table, then the noticeable scar on his forehead.  Doc was trying to hide something.  "So, what happened to you, mate?  Looks like someone got friendly with your face."  Doc's hand gently caressed the scar left by the arrow, a slight smile on his face.

"This?  I fell down."  Buffy spoke.

"Onto what?  A pencil?"  Spike smirked at the Slayer's remark.

"Oh.  That was supposed to be a joke?  Right?"  Doc's demeanor was serious now.  "Kill her now and we can go back to England to finish our work with the Council."  Something wasn't tracking for Buffy.

"Council?  As in Watcher's Council?"  Spike was confused himself.

"Don't remember you saying anything about going back to England.  All I remember was our chat about killing the Slayer."  He heard Buffy audibly groan.  He turned back to her, indicating that he wasn't contemplating it with a weak frown.  She nodded her head, Spike turning back to Doc.  "I want some answers.  And I want them now."

"And what answers are those?"

"My memories and your information.  Kind of have conflicting perspectives."

"How so?"  Spike moved closer to Doc, his eyes peering over Doc's shoulder.  He was definitely hiding something.

"As in they're bloody opposites."

"But the Eye doesn't lie."  

Spike pulled his hands out of his pockets, pulling out the pack of gum.  He held it up, looking back to Buffy.  "You mind?"  Buffy shrugged her shoulders, indicating that she didn't mind.  But she was definitely curious.  This didn't really rank as a Juicy Fruit moment.  "Not doubting the Eye.  In fact, I believe that sodding sphere.  Thing is…"  He held his hand out, the pack of gum extended out to Doc.  With a small chuckle, Doc reached his hand out, about to take a stick, when Spike grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the way and throwing him into the opposite table.  "I'm starting to doubt you."  Buffy moved closer to Spike, wondering what was going on.  "To start with, where's the Watcher?"  Buffy looked to Doc, noticing the lucid smile on his face.

"What are you talking about, Spike?"  Spike picked up the object from the table, holding it in front of Buffy.

"Don't think Rupert's the kind of person to fancy a place like this."  Buffy took the glasses from Spike, turning back to Doc.

"Where is he, you son of a bitch?"  Doc pushed himself away from the table, his eyes focused on Spike.

"This wasn't supposed to happen.  This was never supposed to happen."  About time he got to the damn facts.

"What wasn't?"

"You.  Here.  But here you are."  Doc moved slowly toward them, Buffy's tense demeanor stopping him in his tracks.  "And you don't even know what you are."  Spike needed to know.

"Funny.  Thought I was human."

"My boy.  You're anything but."  Buffy wanted to know the whereabouts of Giles, but Spike needed his answers.  She reluctantly remained quiet while the two men spoke.

"Then tell me.  What am I?"  Doc's smile widened.

"The last thing you'd ever expect to be."  Spike moved to Doc, his anger getting the better of him.  His hand flew from his side, grabbing Doc's robe.

"Stop being so damn cryptic and tell me already."  Doc pushed away, springing back away from the couple.

"I'll tell you after you kill the Slayer.  Then we can celebrate by killing the Watcher and the whelp."  Buffy began to move toward Doc, but Spike held her back.  He still needed answers.

"No deal."  Doc sighed, a look of resignation on his face.

"Very well.  I'll have to kill them all."  He casually walked toward them, a smile on his face as he looked at Buffy.  "I'll start with the Watcher and the boy.  Then I'll kill your little sister.  Your friends.  Your family.  Everyone."  He gently chuckled.  "And there's no way you can stop me, Slayer."  He reached his hand out to her, Buffy slapping it away from her.  "You couldn't on the tower.  You can't now."

"Where are they?!?"  Doc was about to lunge at them, but Spike moved toward him, almost in a blur, his hand around his neck, slamming him against the wall.

"None of that now.  Answer the lady's question."  Doc smiled even though he was essentially helpless.

"God.  You can't even see it, can you?"  Spike's hand tensed around Doc's neck.

"Well, since you won't enlighten me."  At that moment, a noise came from the back room.  Buffy wasn't sure what it was.  But Spike knew.  "They're in the back, Slayer.  Go check up on them."

"How…?"

"Trust me."  The words struck a chord in her.  She couldn't remember a time when she actually trusted him.  Sure, she had trusted him with protecting her family, her friends.  But that was because she had no other choice.  But now?  Buffy slowly nodded her head and moved into the back room.  Once Doc and Spike were alone, Doc spoke again.

"Don't throw this opportunity away.  We have the world at our feet.  Just kill the Slayer and we can begin."

"What's with you evil types?  Always wanting the world.  Why can't you just settle for some fish and chips?"  Doc struggled against Spike's grip, finding that he couldn't get free this time.  As he struggled, they saw Buffy move back through the curtain, Xander leaning on her shoulder.  Giles slumped closely behind them.

"I'm going to kill you, you sick bastard!"  Buffy almost broke down when she had seen her two friends strung up like pieces of meat, tenderized by Doc's ministrations.  Doc simply smiled, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

"You know you physically can't.  The boy will tell you as much.  You couldn't even begin to fathom what I am."  Buffy wanted to vent her frustration on Doc for what he had done to Dawn, to Xander, to Giles.  But she had to get her friends out before she could even contemplate revenge.  Spike could sense the worry she was feeling.

"Take them out of here.  I'm gonna get some more answers."  Buffy was about to object when Giles lost his footing and fell onto the ground.  An audible yelp emanated from his lips as he did so.  Buffy tried to turn around, but Xander was hindering her.

"Oh, God.  Giles."  Doc laughed at this point.

"Get used to this scene, Slayer.  You'll be seeing much more of it in the future.  I promise.  Every last one, I promise you."  Buffy felt the sincerity in his words and suddenly felt herself almost helpless.  Like she was back with Glory.  Spike spoke.

"Go on, luv.  I'll be right behind you with Rupert."  Buffy eyed him, wondering if he was in his right mind.  He wanted answers so desperately.  But she saw it in his eyes.  He meant every word.

"Don't take long."

"I won't."  Buffy carefully walked out of the shop, Xander barely conscious.  Spike turned back to Doc, releasing his grip on the old man.  Doc's hand gently massaged his throat, the smile never leaving his face.

"You know I'll kill them.  We're alike, you and me.  We're both killers."

"That may be true…"  Spike turned around, seeing Giles slowly getting to his feet.  "But at least Spike has proven that he wants to change."  Doc's laughter grew as he heard the Watcher's words.

"Well now.  An advocate from the Council.  How amusing."  Giles was now leaning against a table, holding his side gingerly, the pain from the broken ribs almost too much to bear.  Doc turned back to Spike, his smile disappearing.  "Last chance, lad.  Either you join with me or I'll slaughter the whole lot."  Spike somberly answered.

"I won't."  Doc was beginning to become frustrated.

"I can give you all the answers you seek."  His hand was now on Spike's shoulder.  "You know she'll never love a monster like you."  Spike continued to eye the old man, noticing his tail swinging with delight.  "But together, we can be better than the damned of this world.  We can rule them all."  Spike smiled at the old man.

"But we're all damned, Doc."  A look of shock covered Doc's face as he heard Spike's words.

"What?"  That's when he felt it.  Spike's hand plunged into Doc's chest, his fingers straight.

"We're all damned."  Spike slowly pulled his hand up the length of Doc's body, feeling his insides separate as he did so.  The last thing he saw was the look of shock on Doc's face as his hand split his skull, the body falling to the floor.  Spike gave the body one final look, two pieces from the chest up, one piece from the chest down.  

He turned to Giles, wiping the remnants of Doc onto his jacket.  The look on Giles' face wasn't one of shock.  Rather, it was one of inquisitiveness.  "How did you do that?"  Spike smiled at Giles, a hint of sorrow in his voice.

"Man pretty much told me I could."  Giles gave him a puzzled look.  "He couldn't break my grasp.  The old me would never have had a chance against that sadistic wanker."

"But he had information you needed."  Spike placed his hands back in his pockets, noting the earnestness in Giles' words.  Giles was actually concerned about him.

"Couldn't leave him to kill the lot of you.  Don't think Buffy'd be able to survive that."  Giles smiled at Spike, noting the obvious change in him.

"You'd be surprised what she can survive."  A small laugh from Spike.

"I guess."  Spike walked over to Giles, gently pulling Giles' arm over his neck.  "Gotta get you to the hospital to get those wounds checked out."

"Since when did you care about my well being?"  Spike answered truthfully.

"Since you're my way into the Council."  Spike still needed answers.  And right now, the only option left to him was England.  Where this all began.  Doc had told him one truth though.  He was something more than human.  What, exactly, was the question.

To be continued 


	8. Under Twilight

Title:  Under Twilight

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Language and Sexual Innuendo)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to Something Blue, The Replacement, Checkpoint, and The Gift.

Summary:  Eight part of Falling into You series.  

Status:  Finished (Part VIII of ?)

Not even an hour had passed since they had left Doc's place.  Buffy was waiting at the entrance of the hospital for Spike and Giles.  She wanted to go back for Giles, but thought better of herself.  Spike said that he'd get Giles to the hospital, and she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.  She felt sick to her stomach as she did this, though.  After all they had gone through to get to the point of respect, of trust, Doc's lies tore the foundation down.  And Buffy wasn't sure if it'd be possible to ever get that back.  She stood in the cold night, her arms wrapped about her chest, the little voice in the back of her head saying that he'd come.  He always came.  Always.

Before she could think of anything else, Spike and Giles emerged into her view, Giles leaning against Spike for balance.  She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her as they came closer, because it looked as though Spike's arm was bloodied.  But he made no indication that he was hurt.  He just walked toward her, his emotions hidden to her.  Buffy spoke as soon as they walked up to her.  "How is he?"  Giles chuckled through the pain.

"I'll live.  Although, I don't feel it right at the moment."  Buffy moved to Giles' other side, gently draping his arm over her shoulder.

"How'd you get away from Doc?"  Spike spoke this time.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore."  Giles was about to say something, but saw the look on Spike's face.  He left it alone.  Buffy, on the other hand.

"We should go back later.  Try and figure out…"  Spike spoke, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Let's get Rupert taken care of first.  Then we'll talk."  Buffy was about to object, but knew that he was right when her eyes fell on Giles.  He didn't look like hell.  He looked worse.  They walked Giles into the waiting area, where Doris was waiting once again, this time with a wheelchair.  Doris wanted to know why all of Buffy's friends were coming in battered and bruised, but she got the same answer.  Muggers, gangs, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.  She would have questioned further, but the condition of the first friend had made her put aside her suspicions.

Spike and Buffy sat Giles into the wheelchair, Buffy speaking.  "I'll be right there, okay?  I want to talk to Spike first."  Giles nodded, a small smile on his face.  Buffy and Spike watched as Doris wheeled Giles away to the emergency room.  Then there was just the two of them.  An awkward silence before Buffy spoke again, her eyes on Spike's arm.  "Did he hurt you?"  Spike looked at her quizzically before he noticed that she was looking at his arm.  The same one he'd plunged into Doc's dark heart.

"No worries.  It's not mine."  Buffy offered him a timid smile, still worrying about the blood on his jacket.

"So, did you get what you needed from him?"  She meant Doc.  Spike frowned, looking at the floor, not wanting to look at her.

"No."  He didn't want to be here with her.  Not now.  Not after what he had done.  So he did the only thing he could.  He walked away from her.  Buffy looked on, shocked at what he did.  She followed him, Spike almost cursing her for it.

"Where are you going?"  Spike didn't look back.

"Going to look in on the boy.  Looked like hell when you got him out."  It was a lie.  He had no idea where Xander was.  He just wanted to walk away, to clear his head, to die.  Buffy caught him in the lie.

"What are you going to do?  Check every room until you find him?"  Spike turned around, noting Buffy's smirk.  He awkwardly smiled back.

"Room number, pet?"  Buffy was about to go into banter mode, but saw that his smile had quickly faded from his face, a sullen look replacing it.  She decided to let him go.  She'd be able to talk to him later.

"Room 123."  He nodded, then turned back down the hall.  Before he could walk away, he felt Buffy's hand on his arm, gently squeezing.  He closed his eyes in anguish, wishing he were dreaming.  Wishing that he never met her.  Wishing that he were dead.  She stepped in front of him, a look of worry on her face.  "If you're up to it, I could use your help with Doc."  He knew that Doc's words had gotten to her.  Spike also believed him.  Doc would have killed everyone she held dear, if he hadn't gotten in the way.  He looked into her eyes, a look of sorrow overcoming him.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore, Buffy."  He turned away once again, walking down the hall.  Buffy called after him, a tint of worry in her voice.

"Why don't I have to worry?"  Spike never turned back.

"Because I killed the son of a bitch."  He walked away from her, Buffy standing there speechless, unsure of what she should feel.

Spike stood in front of the door, peering through the glass partition in the wooden door.  Anya was already there, sitting by Xander's side.  He didn't want to interrupt him, but he didn't know when he'd get another chance to say his piece.  He gently rapped his knuckles against the wood, Anya turning to him.  She waved him in, a small smile playing on her face.

Spike slowly entered the room, closing the door behind him.  This was the first time he had seen Anya since that night at Georgio's and was the first time he had actually seen Xander.  Well, he had seen Xander back at Doc's.  But as for actually talking, this was his first time.  Spike wondered in the back of his mind when exactly the last time was talking to the young man lying in the bed, evidently in pain as he tried not to breathe too deeply.  Spike walked over to Anya, she getting up in kind and gently hugged him.  Spike was taken aback by the woman's behavior.  That was, until she spoke.

"Thank you."  Spike awkwardly hugged her back, not knowing what exactly to do.

"For what?"  Anya slowly pulled away from him, looking gently, warmly into his eyes.

"For saving Xander.  For not letting him get killed."  Spike shot her a smirk.

"Then you should be thanking Buffy."  He glanced over to Xander, who was now looking at the interaction between his girlfriend and his…his what?  "Woulda left him if I had my way.  Ain't that right, Harris."  Spike looked over to Xander, seeing the small grin playing on his face.

"You're all heart, Spike."  Spike noted the name.  Buffy must have told them everything.  He moved past Anya, standing to her side now.

"So, how much did she tell you?"  Xander was about to speak but a bout of coughing prevented him.  The pain was evident on his face as it contorted with every cough.  Anya looked worryingly at her fiancé, her hand gently caressing his cheek.  When he stopped, Anya spoke.

"She told us that you got some of your memories back.  But not all of them."  Spike nodded, still wondering if Buffy had told them everything.  He turned his gaze to Anya.

"You mind giving me and your beau a few minutes?"  Anya looked at Spike, confusion on her face.  However, she reluctantly yielded to Spike's request after seeing the look of sincerity and concern on Spike's.

"Oh.  Okay."  She leaned over to Xander, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.  "See you in a little bit, okay?"  Xander responded by offering her a weak smile.  She walked past Spike, stopping by the door.  "You want anything from the vending machine, Spike?"  He turned back to Anya.

"I'm fine, luv.  But thanks."  Anya offered an awkward smile before leaving the two men in the hospital room.  Spike walked over to Xander, now occupying the chair that Anya had pulled over to the side of the bed.  He gave Xander a once over before speaking.  "So, how you feeling mate?"  Spike already knew the answer.  He was surprised that he was still conscious after the vicious torture Doc had inflicted on him.  Who knew the boy had stones?

"Like someone used me for a punching bag."  Xander winced as he tried to position himself to see Spike more clearly.  Spike, noting his movement, pulled the chair back, into Xander's frame of view.  "Thanks."

"Wasn't nothing."  A moment of silence between the two before Spike spoke again.  "Doc's dead."  Xander's look went from one of pain to one of disbelief.

"How?"

"Did it myself."  Xander offered him a wry smile.

"I figured that Sherlock.  Not like Giles was gonna do anything."  Spike grinned at Xander, picturing Giles killing Doc by means of boredom.  "So, how'd you do it?"  Spike eyed Xander curiously, then spoke.

"You sure you wanna know?  With you being all nicked up and all.  Might upset you."  Spike noted the look of desperation now on Xander's face.

"After what that son of a bitch did to me and Giles, I could use a pick me up right about now."  Spike softly chuckled, his right leg now on his left knee.

"Alright then.  Did it all dramatic like."

"Like Star Wars dramatic?  Or Usual Suspects dramatic?"  Spike shook his head.  Xander was actually enjoying this, judging by the smirk on his face and the lilt in his voice.

"Not sure mate.  Never seen 'em."  Xander was the one to shake his head now.

"Man, talk about deprivation."  Both men looked at each other before sharing a laugh.  Xander held his side as he did so.  "We're gonna have to remedy that one day."  Then an awkward moment of silence.  Did Xander just show compassion to the demon?  That wasn't right.  No one knew what Spike was now.  Not even Spike.  Spike spoke once again.

"Right.  One day."  Spike moved his leg back to the ground, leaning in closer to Xander.  "Shoved my hand right through the bugger's chest."  Xander spoke.

"So?  I shoved a sword into his chest.  That didn't do much."  Xander thought about his last statement.  "Actually, it didn't do anything."  Spike nodded, remembering back to the night when he and Xander had gone over to Doc's to get the scrolls.  Xander was pretty quick with the blade; he had to admit.

"Haven't told you the best part."  Xander's eyes widened, almost like a young child waiting anxiously for Christmas day to come.  "Split the bastard's head in two."  Xander tried to contemplate his words they sunk in.  Then he smiled.

"Did he scream in pain?"  Spike couldn't believe he was actually having this conversation with Xander.  This wasn't why he was here.  But if it made him feel better, why deny him?

"Don't think he could.  My hand got intimate with his vocal cords after all."  Xander frowned, almost disappointed.  "However, the look on his face."  Xander's eyes looked at him in anticipation.

"Yeah?"

"He looked like a bloody poofter.  All, 'Oh no, this can't be happening.  Please, don't let this be happening.'"  Xander gently laughed, knowing that he shouldn't be.  But he couldn't help himself.  The bastard was actually dead.  And Spike was the one that had done it.  Xander spoke once again, a small smile on his face.

"You ask me?  Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."  Spike genuinely laughed at Xander's witty remark.

"You got that right."  Another shared laugh between the two men.  After the laughter subsided, Spike spoke once again.  "Actually, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."  Xander's smile slowly faded from his face, a look of worry replacing it after hearing Spike's serious tone.

"What is it?"  Spike leaned back into the chair, his eyes still on Xander.

"You care for Buffy, right?"  Xander was genuinely confused by the question.  He answered nonetheless, curious to see where Spike was going with this.

"Of course.  She's like one of my best friends."  Xander could see the troubled look on Spike's face now.  "Why are you asking me this?"  The answer wasn't what he was expecting.

"I want you to look after her then."  Xander tried to sit up at this point, his ribs preventing him.  He settled back into his original position, his voice somber.

"What is this about, Spike?"  Spike looked down, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

"Giles and I'll be going back to England in a few weeks.  Once he heals up enough to travel."  Spike waited for Xander to speak, but he didn't.  Spike, feeling uncomfortable with the silence, continued.  "I didn't get the answers I needed from the old man.  So the only place left for me is the Council."  Spike looked up, seeing the confusion painted across Xander's face.  Of course he was confused.  He didn't know about Spike's time in London.  Or about Doc's information about the Council imprisoning him while back there.  The only one that knew now was him.  And eventually Giles once he had a chance to fill him in on the situation.  "Long story short.  The Council has information I need.  I'm going to get it."  Xander nodded, only imagining what Spike was going through right now.  The holes in his memory must be frustrating as hell.

"But how long's that going to take?"  Xander eyed Spike perceptively.  Spike wasn't telling him the whole truth.

"No idea, mate.  No idea at all."  Spike let out a deep breath, a sigh.  "So, will you look after her then?"  Xander was about to continue his line of questioning but saw that this talk was definitely troubling Spike.  He decided it was best to leave it alone for now.  Xander nodded.

"Yeah.  I'll look after her."  Spike offered him a small smile.

"Thanks, Xander."  Spike chuckled at this.

"What's so funny?"

"This.  Me thanking you."  Spike got up from the chair, now standing by the foot of the bed.  "If my memory's not playing tricks on me, I could swear that you hate me more than that wanker Angel."  Xander grinned.

"I did.  Hell, I still do."  Spike nodded, a grin on his face.

"I don't much care for you too, Harris.  But thanks."  An unspoken understanding between the two men and Spike turned around, heading for the door.  Before he could turn the handle, Xander's voice stopped him.

"You're not coming back, are you?"  Spike stood there for a moment before looking back over his shoulder.

"I don't know."  Before Spike could speak again, Xander interrupted him.

"That's bull.  And you know it.  Why else would you ask me, of all people, to look after the Slayer?"  Spike frowned at the boy's perceptiveness.  Buffy could take care of herself without Xander.  She'd been doing it for a long time now.  Ever since he died.  Even before he died.  "Why would you leave her?  Why now?"

"Told ya.  Have things that need knowing."

"And after you get your precious information, there's no reason for you not to come back."  Spike was about to interrupt Xander's narrative, but Xander spoke before he had a chance to.  "Unless you don't want to.  In that case, you're worse than Doc."  This made Spike turn back around to face the injured Xander.

"You got a lot of gall to even compare me to that piece of…"

"She went through hell when you died."  Spike felt his throat constrict, his thoughts jumbled now.  "She didn't even take it this hard when Angel died.  You know that?"  Spike placed his hands in his pockets, feeling the pack of gum.  Her gum.  "She didn't stop crying for over a month.  It was almost two before she even went back to slaying by herself.  We'd all go with her because we knew she wanted to die."  Spike shook his head, not wanting to believe what Xander was telling him.  "She wanted to be with you."

"I didn't know."  Xander could hear the uncertainty in his hushed voice now.

"Well.  Now you know."  Spike looked over Xander for a bit before turning back around.

"Just look after her."  Spike could hear the hate in Xander's voice once again.  Almost like it was old times.  No.  Not old times.  Back then; Xander didn't really have a reason to hate Spike.  Now he did.

"You son of a bitch.  She loves you, and you're going to leave her."  Spike didn't turn back this time.

"Don't have a choice."  He paused, thinking of the best way to say what he had to say.  "I don't remember her ever loving me.  All I really remember is her hating me and me hating her."  He took a deep breath before he spoke again.  "I don't remember ever really loving her."  By the silence in the room, he knew that Xander finally understood what he was going through.  "Until I'm sure about all of my memories, I've no right being here."  And with that, he stepped out of the room, leaving Xander to ponder his last words.

"How you feeling?"  Giles slowly turned his head on the pillow to see Buffy sitting next to him, a look of concern on her face.  Giles whispered, only for the fact that his body would betray him if he didn't.

"Better than you look."  Buffy looked at him quizzically before she smiled.

"That obvious?"  Giles nodded.  "So, what happened?  After Xander and I left?"  She had to know if it was true.  If Doc was really dead.  And if Spike had really delivered the deathblow.  Because if he did, that would mean that things were different now.  That he was different.  Giles noted the worry still in her eyes as she smiled.

"Nothing much to tell really.  Doc threatened to kill us.  So Spike killed him first."  Giles shook his head at this point, his words not matching with his thoughts.  "No, that's not right.  I think Spike didn't much care for being the old man's puppet."  His eyes turned back to Buffy, noting the concern still there.  "I guess that's why he attacked you in the cemetery.  He thought you were trying to control him as well."  Buffy's look turned from one of concern to one of shock.

"He told you?"  Giles' brow furrowed.

"Yes.  Everything."  Buffy didn't want anyone to know about what had happened in the cemetery.  Partly because she didn't want the group to shun him once again.  And partly because she didn't want to believe it herself.  That some part of Spike wanted her dead.  Hated her.

"Why would he…"  Before she could finish the question, Giles answered.

"Because he knew the only way I'd help him was if he was honest with me."  Giles chuckled softly while Buffy looked on, unsure of what he was talking about.  "Before Doc died, he told Spike that the Council had some part in his resurrection."  Another chuckle.  "Funny.  There's no way I would have known about the cemetery.  But he told me."  Giles slowly shook his head in disbelief.  Whoever this person was, it didn't feel like Spike.  But it was.  "And I don't think you would have told me either."  Buffy didn't like where this was going.

"Why do you say that?"  Her emotions were once again in turmoil.  She felt like she was once again keeping secrets.  First, her initial trysts with Spike.  Now, her encounter in the cemetery.  She felt like it was all unraveling once again.  Like she was pushing him away again.  Like she was ashamed of him again.

"Because somewhere inside you is a part that's afraid of what we'll think if we ever found out that Spike tried to kill you."  Buffy was about to respond but Giles interrupted her.  "You needn't fear what we think.  You're an adult now.  We have no say on your life.  Better or worse, it's your life to live."  Buffy turned her gaze to the floor, ashamed of what her Watcher had said.  The funny part was, it was all true.  She always needed their approval.  That was the reason why she never fully accepted Spike.  That was the reason she never allowed herself to love him.  Not until it was too late.  Not until he was gone.

"Giles."  She had no words.  Damn him for being so perceptive.  She felt a hand on her forearm, gently squeezing.  She looked up, seeing Giles gently smiling at her.

"You love him, don't you?"  Buffy slowly nodded, a look of sorrow on her face.  "Then you should tell him."  Another moment of silence before Buffy spoke.

"I don't think he loves me anymore."  She took a deep breath to steady herself before she continued.  "After the cemetery, he wouldn't even look at me.  I think he hates me for doing this to him."

"Doing what?"  Buffy answered truthfully.

"For complicating his life."  Giles gently laughed.  Buffy looked on, definitely puzzled by his behavior.

"Don't think I've ever seen a relationship that wasn't marred by complications."  Buffy gently smiled.  "However, I think you should tell him before we leave."  Buffy's smile vanished from her face as she heard the words.

"What are you talking about?"  Giles hesitated before continuing.

"Spike and I are going back to England."  He could see the panic on her face now.

"For how long?"  Giles could see that she was definitely troubled by this bit of news.  She didn't want Spike to leave.  How things change.

"I'd imagine until he gets the information he needs from the Council."  Buffy let out a discontented sigh.

"Then I'll never see you two ever again."  Giles softly chuckled.

"Well, I don't think Spike will put up with being led around."  Giles smirked as he spoke.  "He'll probably pull out Quentin's fingernails until he gets what he wants."  Buffy and Giles shared a laugh at the image.  When the laughter subsided, Buffy spoke, worry tinting her voice.

"You'll look after him, right?"  Buffy thought that she would have to explain to Giles what she meant.  However, Giles knew what she was talking about.

"Of course I will.  Although I doubt he needs my protection."  Buffy nodded, agreeing with Giles.  "I promise, Buffy.  I won't let anything bad happen to him."  Buffy gently smiled at him.

"Thank you, Giles."  She then laid her head down on his arm, Giles gently squeezing her shoulder.  She didn't know why, but she could feel it.  She was losing him all over again.  And she still hadn't told Spike how she really felt.  She had to tell him before he left.

She felt his arms around her waist, his mouth nuzzling against the nape of her neck.  She softly smiled, welcoming the sensation he was introducing to her.  Her hands went to his, holding him to her stomach.

"Mmm, that's nice."

"Well, can't help it.  You taste so good."  She felt him smile against her neck, his lips trailing kisses down to her shoulder.  She turned her head to the side, looking up at him.  Into his dark blue pools.

"I missed you."  She gently pulled his hands from about her waist, slowly maneuvering herself so she was on her back, looking up at him.

"I missed you too, pet."  They looked at each other for a moment before Spike lowered his head, gently kissing her.  Her hands moved around his neck, pulling him closer to her.  Their mouths and tongues intermingled, moans escaping their lips when they needed to breathe.  Buffy slowly pulled away, looking into his eyes.

"Make love to me."  He smirked at her.

"Again?  Luv, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to kill me."  She softly laughed, a smile genuinely playing across her face.

"What can I say?  I love killing you with kindness."  Spike looked down at her, a smile on his lips.  He lowered himself for another kiss but stopped before he could.  She noted the look of sorrow on his face now.

"Or, killing me like you always wanted to."  Buffy didn't understand what he meant until she followed his eyes in between their bodies, to his chest.  Her eyes widened in horror, seeing the stake protruding from his chest, her hand clutching it.

"Spike?"  She felt the blood flowing down the wooden stake, onto her hand.  It felt warm.  It made her sick to her stomach.  She looked back up, expecting him to be furious with her.  However, the look was what one she didn't expect.  It was one of love.

"It's okay, Buffy."  He gently caressed her hand, both now covered in blood.  His blood.  "I know you never loved me.  Was good while it lasted though, huh?"  Before she could speak, his body began to deteriorate, becoming dark.  The last thing she saw was the smile on his face before he exploded into a cloud of dust and ashes.

"Spike!"  Her eyes flew open, her body rising up to a sitting position.  She surveyed her surroundings, looking for him.  As she looked around the room, she realized that it was a dream.  Another dream.  Another dream about him.  About killing him.  Buffy took a deep breath, her hands running through her hair.  Sweat trickled down her temples even though the room was cooled by the air conditioning.  She tossed the sheet to the side, looking over to the nightstand.

"One twenty."  Her legs swung to the side of the bed, a small sigh escaping her lips.  It had been over a week since she last saw him.  When the nightmares started.  He had all but told her to stay away from him.  Well, he hadn't say 'Stay away from me.' But his gestures told her as much.  He fidgeted when she tried to touch him.  He looked away when their gaze locked.  He never initiated a conversation.  She finally had Spike back but felt further from him than ever.  She harshly chuckled at the irony.  Once upon a time she couldn't stand being around him.  Now she couldn't stop thinking about him.

She got up from the bed, walking over to the dresser.  She pulled out a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on, her shirt top falling over the waist.  She slid on a pair of sneakers, disregarding socks.  She needed to get out.  She needed to clear her head.  She needed to stop killing him in her dreams.

Buffy walked through the streets, walking toward nothing in particular.  The streets were essentially vacant barring an occasional vagrant or stray animal.  As she continued walking, she looked around, noting that the surroundings were becoming familiar.  Well, most of Sunnydale was familiar to her, but this was a different kind of familiar.  It was a familiar that she didn't want to put up with right about now.  She stopped as soon as her eyes fell on the building.  Buffy frowned, knowing that it was a bad idea to be here.

"Stupid subconscious."  Buffy stood in front of the entrance before walking toward the gate.  "Stupid idea, Buffy.  Very stupid idea."  Before she could comprehend what she had just said, Buffy had walked into the complex, now making her way up the stairs.  She didn't know how she ended up here, but here she was.  In front of the door.  "Number 220."  She debated whether she should knock on the door when it swung open.  And there he was.  Standing there in front of her, a look of surprise on his face.

"Something I can do for you, luv?"  Buffy stared at him for a moment, her eyes focusing on his tousled hair.  Then they moved down to his torso.  His naked torso.  Spike spoke again, this time a small laugh covering his voice.  "Slayer?"  She turned her gaze to his face once again, noting the smile on his face.  She needed to regain some composure.

"How'd you know I was out here?"

"Heard you scraping your shoe outside the door."  Buffy followed his eyes downward, seeing that her right foot was gently moving back and forth against the concrete floor.  Buffy tucked her foot behind her left leg, wanting to quiet it.  Even with his memories hampered, he still knew how she behaved when she was nervous.  His smile relaxed, but it was still evident as he spoke again.  "You okay, pet?"

"Um, yeah."  She lied.  "Couldn't sleep."

"So you decided to come and wake me up?"  She smiled at him, Spike returning it in kind.

"Doesn't look like you were sleeping."  She kept on looking at his face for fear that if she looked anywhere else, her eyes would betray her and go back to his chest.  His chiseled chest, his shapely arms, his…Bad Buffy.  Very bad.  She stumbled for words before Spike spoke.

"Come in.  Maybe you can figure out why you're here if you sit down."  He shot her a smirk, moving away from the door.  Buffy eyed him curiously before she stepped inside, her arm grazing his.  She missed touching him that it hurt.  She needed to hide her emotions though, before anything awkward happened.

"So, you remember being a jerk, huh?"  He chuckled softly as he closed the door behind him.

She made her way to the living room, Spike following close behind.  Too close for her.  She could actually feel heat emanating from him.  And it made her feel so alive.  So wanting.  Buffy moved to the armchair, sitting slowly while she looked around the apartment.  This was the first time she was actually in here.  She was curious as to how he lived.  Spike walked past her, moving into one of the side rooms.  "Be right back.  Gonna throw a shirt on."  Buffy nodded, cursing him in her mind for being civil.  As he disappeared into the side room, most likely his bedroom, Buffy's eyes scanned the new surroundings.

There was the armchair, a couch and a coffee table situated close to her person.  Looking to her right, her eyes fell upon the entertainment cabinet.  Buffy got up from the chair, walking over to it.  The television was on, Spike watching some cheesy black and white horror movie.  One with a vampire.  Buffy amusingly smiled before pressing the power button.  Her eyes moved to his stereo system.  However, it wasn't a compact disc player.  "A turntable?"  Buffy slowly opened the glass doors to the cabinet, thumbing through the records stacked underneath the turntable.  Sex Pistols.  Velvet Underground.  The Clash.  Iggy Pop.  The Ramones.  Figures.  Even with a shaky memory, Spike could remember listening to punk rock.  Especially British punk rock.  She continued flipping through the records, her eyes falling onto the same genre.  That was, until she got to the last record.  She gently pulled it up from the case, not believing what she was seeing.  "Bette Midler?"

Her mind went back to her freshman year of college.  When the Initiative had implanted Spike with his chip.  The one that prevented him from harming humans.  The same year Willow conjured a spell on her friends.  The same one that led to her and Spike planning their wedding.  She turned the sleeve over, scanning the song list.  Sure enough, it was there.  Wind Beneath My Wings.  The same song she wanted for the first dance.  For their first dance as man and wife.  The noise behind her startled her, making her quickly shove the record back into the case.  As she turned around, she saw Spike leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk on his face.

"Find anything interesting, luv?"  Buffy noted that he was wearing a black tee shirt now.  One that showed off his shapely physique.  Buffy shook the image from her mind.  The image of her tearing that same shirt off him on many a night.  She smiled awkwardly at him, wondering if he knew if she found his secret.  After all, there was no way Spike could honestly like Bette Midler.

"Honestly, I don't know how you can listen to the same music over and over and over."  Spike moved from the doorframe, walking slowly toward her.

"Oh, yeah.  Like that boy band crap's any better?"  She smirked at him.  Buffy definitely wasn't a fan of the whole teen pop phase that was stifling the music industry nowadays.

"Well, no.  But there are other British acts out there that actually sound melodic."  Spike smiled at her, inquisitiveness on his face.

"Enlighten me then."  Buffy closed the glass doors before proceeding closer to him, a glint in her eye.  If he wanted to challenge her, she had no choice to accept it.

"Well, there's Radiohead."

"Please.  Blokes don't know what the hell instruments they're playing.  Sounds like a buncha cats screeching."  Buffy shook her head.  Okay.

"Blur.  Oasis."

"Next."  Buffy sighed.  She had to pull out the big guns.

"The Beatles."  Spike was about to disagree when Buffy started in.  "Even you can't fault Sergeant Pepper's."  Spike stood there, a look of amusement and shock on his face.

"You know Sergeant Pepper?"  Buffy smiled.  She had just won.  It felt almost like old times.  "Thought you woulda been more of a modern rock fan."

"Giles let me listen to it.  Actually, he forced me to when I wouldn't stop playing my Dave Matthews CD while we were training."  Spike ruefully smiled, imagining the Slayer kickboxing to Dave Matthews while Giles was gritting his teeth.  "Actually, I really liked it.  But I'd never tell Giles that."  Spike looked at her, noting the serenity in her voice.  "A Day in the Life really spoke to me."

"Why's that, pet?"  She didn't notice that he was now standing in front of her because her gaze was now on the ground as she recalled the memory.

"Just reminded me that no matter how crappy my life got, other people have their own problems.  Kinda made me feel better, that I wasn't the only one with a screwed up life."

"Yeah, that song gets to me too."  She looked up, her eyes falling onto his.  He was so close now.  Spike sensed the awkwardness of the situation so he spoke.  "So, you ready to see them?"  Buffy looked at him quizzically now.  "The flowers."  Buffy's smile slowly emerged on her face.  He remembered that she wanted to see them.

"You mean those on the counter aren't them?"  Buffy's eyes moved to the flowers lining the counter that separated the dining room and kitchen.  Spike softly chuckled.

"No, luv.  Those are just for decoration."  Spike's head tilted to the direction he wanted Buffy to proceed.  "I'll show you where I keep the real batch."  Buffy nodded and walked in front of him, toward the glass sliding doors to the right of the dining room.

As Buffy stepped out into the patio area, her breath caught in her throat.  She could see some of the flowers from behind the glass door.  But standing there, in the midst of the veritable jungle that surrounded the metal frame of the patio, she was amazed.  It was a symphony of colors in the moonlight.  Roses.  Red, yellow, and white.  Daisies.  Poinsettias.  Tulips.  And several others she couldn't identify covered the outer edges of the patio area.  Spike stepped behind her, a small grin on his face.  "So, whaddya think?"  Buffy kept her eyes on the flowers, illuminated by the moonlight.

"They're beautiful."  She walked forward to a batch of red roses, slowly inhaling the aroma.  "You did all this?"  Spike walked to her side, his hands in his pockets.

"Man's gotta have a hobby, right?"  Buffy turned to face him, noting the small smile on his face.

"Yeah, but this is just…"  She didn't know what the right word should be.  Amazing.  Magnificent.  Fantastic.  They all paled in comparison to what she was feeling now, standing amongst the foliage.  Buffy let out a gentle chuckle.

"Something funny, pet?"  Buffy turned her gaze back to the roses.

"Not funny.  Just…wow.  Never in a million years would I picture you like this."  Spike was curious now.

"Like what?"

"Creating something this beautiful."  She turned back to look at him.  The look in his eyes seemed familiar.  Seemed almost loving.  After a moment of silence, Spike spoke.

"Don't think I've ever gotten as good a compliment as that.  Thanks, Slayer."  Buffy genuinely smiled at him.

"You deserve it."  She grinned at him.  "And you're welcome."  Spike nodded his head, then moved to the front railing.  Buffy followed him, both standing there, looking out into the illuminated darkness.  "So, when are you leaving?"  Spike turned to see the inquisitiveness on her face.  "For England."

"Oh.  Day after tomorrow."  Buffy looked down, a frown on her face.  So soon.  Time really did have a way of playing games with you.

"Have you packed yet?"  Spike shook his head, not looking at her.

"Not yet.  Not much to pack though."

"Sure there is.  There's clothes, grooming accessories, camera, film…"  Spike interrupted her.

"Camera?"

"Yeah.  So you have pictures to show us when you get back."  Pictures.  She wanted pictures and he wasn't sure if he was even coming back.  Not now.  Not with his memories conflicted.  Especially every time he saw her.  Especially now.  Spike, not wanting her to feel his insecurity, decided to play along.

"Right.  Won't forget that.  I'm sure the Council will love me knowing that I'm taking photos for the Slayer."  Buffy gently laughed.

"Well, seeing as how they never invite me over, it's the least they could do."  Spike grinned at her, noting that she felt comfortable being here with him.  Why couldn't he feel the same though?  He needed to think.

"What's say we get out of here?"  Buffy eyed him quizzically, a small smile playing across her face.

"What?  You afraid I'm gonna mess up your pretty posies?"  Buffy teased him, moving closer to him.

"Course not.  Just feel like taking a walk."  Buffy mischievously smiled.  She remembered back to all the times she had taken a "walk" with Spike when they first became intimate.  Not even a block away from the cemetery and they were rushing into the nearest alley, not able to contain their passion, their emotions for one another.  At first, she thought it was just sex.  But she knew better now.  It was always something more.  Always when it was with him.

"What you smiling at, Slayer?"  Spike noted the wicked smile on her face no doubt.  Buffy had to conceal the real reason behind her smile.

"A walk sounds nice.  Maybe it'll calm my nerves."

"Oh.  Your nerves need calming now?"  Stupid Buffy.  Just tell him you're losing yourself over him once again.  Sure, that's not going to freak him out.

"Remember?  Couldn't sleep."  She hoped that he'd buy it.  He did.

"Well then.  A walk it is."  Buffy saw his gentle smile before he walked back to the sliding doors.  Buffy followed, her heart fluttering once again at the thought of him.

"You have protection, right?"  Buffy turned to him, a look of shock on her face.

"Wh…what?"  Spike turned his head to her, noting the look.

"You know.  Stake?  Just in case we come across some folks lumpy in the forehead region."  She sighed a breath of relief even though she wouldn't have mind having the protection she thought he meant.

"Oh."  She stuck her hand in her pocket, slowly pulling out a wooden stake.  "Never travel without it."  Spike chuckled.

"Sound like a bloody charge card advertisement."  Buffy shook her head, a grin on her face.

"Well, I don't travel without it.  And I don't sound like a commercial."

"Do to."

"Do not."

"Whatever."  Buffy stopped walking, looking at him.  He turned back, seeing the change in her demeanor.

"Did you just 'whatever' me?"  Spike rolled his eyes up, thinking about what to possibly say.  After all, the question didn't make that much sense.

"I guess I did.  Why, did I say something wrong?"  Buffy walked up to him, a playful smile on her face.

"The 'whatever' is a very dangerous tool.  You don't just casually work it into a conversation.  You use it when it's your last resort."  Spike's brow furrowed, trying to follow her logic.  "And you just threw it out there when there was so many other places you could have gone."  At this point, Spike just shook his head in frustration.  Then he saw the perfect opening.  He walked up to her, his face mere inches from her.  He could see the smile fade as he got closer, a look of curiosity on her face.  Spike looked her in the eyes, a small grin on his face.

"Whatever."  Buffy's lips slowly curved upward, her eyes closing.

"Jerk."  Spike waited in front of her, waited for her to open her eyes again.  He knew he shouldn't be this close to her.  He had tried to kill her a few days ago.  And now, here they were.  Taking a stroll.  It didn't make sense.  But it felt so right.

She opened her eyes once again, immediately locking her gaze with his.  The tension could be felt surrounding them, neither wanting to move.  But Spike couldn't do this.  Not now.  Not until he was sure.  He stepped back, noting the frown now on Buffy's face.

"I'm thirsty.  You thirsty?"  Buffy looked at him, noticing him fidgeting as he stuck his hands in his pockets.  She decided to make things easier for him.

"I could go for something carbonated."  Spike saw the smile on her face and returned it in kind.

"Alright then.  I know the perfect place."  Buffy tilted her head, wondering what he possibly meant.  After all, it was early morning and most of the stores in Sunnydale were closed.  Spike must have seen the look on her face, because he responded.  "What?  You don't believe me?"  Buffy nodded.

"No.  I mean yes.  I mean…"  Buffy shook her head, wondering how she could mess up such an easy question.  Spike smirked back at her, seeing the confusion evident on her face.

"I may not be the Slayer and I may not have been here in Sunnydale that long, but I'm sure you haven't been everywhere in this town."  Buffy gave him a small smile.

"Okay then.  Show me this perfect place."  Spike grinned.

"Gladly."

Buffy couldn't believe her eyes.  Yet another quirk of Spike that she had no idea of.  They were standing at the cash register, Spike holding a blueberry Squishie, she holding a strawberry.  Buffy had seen this place numerous times when she went to the Bronze with her friends, but she never went in.  After all, that's what the Bronze was for.  But, here she was.  With Spike.  In an all night convenience store.

"That's two ten."  Spike nodded at the cashier before dropping three singles on the counter.

"Keep the change."  The cashier placed the bills into the tray while he spoke.

"Thanks mister.  I can finally pay for that vacation to Tahiti."  Spike smirked at the young man before he turned back to Buffy.

"Well, you gotta start somewhere, right?"  The young man chuckled as the couple made their way out of the store.  Buffy looked at Spike as he basically inhaled the icy substance through the large red straw.  She then eyed her cup, wondering what on Earth had made her trust him.  Spike looked over, noting the hesitation.  "Come on, luv.  It's not gonna bite."

"Spike.  I was having trouble sleeping.  A sugar concentrate's not really helping."  Spike smiled at her, the straw still between his lips.

"If you haven't noticed, it's almost a little after four in the morning.  I think sleep is the least of your worries right about now."  She gave him a look, wondering what exactly he was thinking.  "Go ahead.  Or are you too good for a Squishie?  Maybe a latte or one of those designer waters more your style?"  Spike turned back to his cup, sipping slowly, while his eyes stayed on Buffy.  She wanted to hit him for stereotyping her into the spoiled baby category.  She eyed the plastic cup once more before her lips wrapped around the straw.  One deep inhalation and the strawberry ice was on her tongue.  The smile followed immediately after.

Another sip.  Then another.  Why hadn't anyone ever told her about these before?  She looked back over to Spike, a smirk now on his face as he continued nursing his beverage.  Buffy stopped drinking, turning to face him.  She couldn't let him know how much she was enjoying this.  She wiped the smile from her face even though she still felt giddy inside.  "It's okay."

"Liar."  He never stopped sipping his drink.

"I'm not lying.  It's nothing special, that's all."

"Then you won't mind if I take a sip."  Buffy instinctively moved the cup closer to her body, her arms huddled about it as though it was an infant.  She playfully frowned, enjoying the moment.

"Just because it didn't have me hearing angels sing doesn't mean I'm not gonna finish it."  She brought the straw back to her mouth, sipping once again.  As the taste lit up her tongue, the smile returned once again.  Spike smirked at her when he saw the smile.

"Okay, luv.  I believe you.  But personally, I think blueberry's a whole lot better."  Buffy's eyes darted to him, then to his drink.  Spike followed her eyes, then spoke.  "Wanna taste?"  Buffy eyed him suspiciously until he held out the cup for her.

"Fine.  If you insist."  She leaned in closely, taking the straw into her lips.  Buffy took one sip before she realized that Spike was looking at her intently.  Then he smiled.

"Let me guess.  Not earthshaking?"  Buffy slowly pulled away, a smile emerging on her face.

"It was definitely better than the strawberry."  She continued looking at him as he stood there in front of her now.  "Maybe next time we can try a different flavor?  The banana looked pretty good."  Spike smirked as Buffy went back to her drink.

"Next time."

They walked for a bit before they realized that they were on Rivelo Drive.  They didn't realize that they were back here because of the conversation they held.  First it was the new Jet Li flick which both criticized.  Not because of the plot.  After all, the reason people went to movies like those were for the action sequences.  And those are what they criticized.  Buffy felt vindicated, knowing that there was someone else that saw all of the flaws in each fight sequence.  Riley had told her once that it was just a movie.  But it wasn't just a movie.  It was a way of life.  And Spike understood that.

Then the conversation moved to the art of staking a vampire.  Buffy said that the witty banter kept the opposition on its toes.  Spike disagreed with her there.  Even though he enjoyed the banter, he used it more as an anger device.  Why fight a pissed off vampire when you could fight a really brassed off one.  Made the fight more interesting in his opinion.

Finally, the conversation moved to the Council.  Buffy gave Spike tips on how to handle the bureaucracy.  She mentioned how they really didn't have that much power as long as you believed they didn't.  After all, they were a bunch of record keepers when you really got down to it.  Spike nodded, feeling unsure about Buffy now.  From the way the talked, she definitely didn't like the Watcher's Council.  But she cared deeply for Giles.  A Watcher.  How could someone be so complex?  As he thought about this, they walked in front of Buffy's house.  Buffy turned to him, noticing the seriousness on his face.

"What are you thinking about?"  Spike looked up, seeing that she had a gentle, almost playful smile on her face now.  He couldn't help but smile back.  Being with her made him do that a lot.

"Nothing."  Buffy prodded.

"Nothing?  Funny.  You're doing an awful lot of crinkling for nothing."  Spike didn't follow what she was saying until she pointed to his forehead.  He gently chuckled.

"Crinkling?  Really?"  Buffy nodded, her smile never wavering.

"Uh huh."

"Well, I'll try not to crinkle anymore.  Okay?"

"Okay."  They stood in front of her house, Buffy still clutching the plastic cup with the racecar on the side.  He didn't understand why she kept it but said nothing.  She must have had her reasons.  That's when they saw it from the corner of their eyes.  Buffy turned, Spike following.  "Looks like the sun's coming up."

"Looks like."  Buffy turned back to him, looking at him as he continued gazing at the horizon.  He looked beautiful, standing there.  Minute rays of sunlight bathing over him.  She couldn't help but smile.  It was almost like a fairy tale.  Spike had finally become a real boy.  Spike turned back to her, noting her demeanor.

"Wanna come in?"  Oh, no.  What did she just do?  Cover.  Need to cover.  "For some water?  I don't know about you, but my mouth feels all sticky with that Squishie aftertaste."  Buffy eyed him, hoping that he bought her flimsy reason.

"That's okay.  I should be getting home.  Have to grab some shut eye before I start packing."  Buffy looked at him, a hint of amusement on her face.

"It's Saturday.  Don't tell me you're all partied out?"  Spike smirked back at her.

"Well, I woulda had a nice sleep if a certain Slayer didn't come knocking on my door."

"Technically, I didn't knock.  You opened the door."  Spike shrugged.

"Whatever."  They both laughed at the joke.  After the laughter subsided, Buffy spoke.

"Thanks."  He looked at her, confusion on his face.

"For what?"  Her honesty jarred him.

"For keeping me company tonight.  This morning."  Buffy shook her head.

"S'okay, luv.  I get the picture.  And it was my pleasure.  Least I could do for trying to kill you earlier."  Buffy looked at him, seeing the sorrow now on his face.

"Hey.  That wasn't your fault."  Spike chuckled, a hint of anger in it.

"Oh yeah?  Let me guess.  Some other bloke did this to you?"  Spike pointed to her left arm, the one that had been injured by the stake.  Her stake.  She pulled back, a hint of pain on her face.  Spike had hurt her.  But it wasn't his fault.

"Doc made you do this."  Spike spoke, his voice swelling.

"My memories made me do that."  Spike looked away, not wanting to face her.  Buffy's hand gently grazed his chin, tilting it toward her, her voice now a soothing whisper.

"Hey.  Look at me.  Look at me."  Spike let her turn his head, his eyes still closed.  "Your memories stopped you too."  Spike slowly opened his eyes, seeing only kindness in hers.  "And you're gonna get the rest of them back when you go to the Council.  Everything's going to be okay."  He wanted to believe her, but his emotions got the better of him.  He slowly pulled her hand away, his voice now a whisper.

"How do you know that?"

"Call it Slayer intuition."  He couldn't help but smile at her.

"How accurate is it?  This Slayer intuition?"  Buffy smiled at him, her hand grazing his.

"Oh, about seventy percent.  Maybe eighty."

"Need better than that, luv."  A small chuckle and she continued.

"Okay.  For you?  Ninety nine."  He grinned at her.

"Not a hundred?"  Buffy moved closer to him, now holding his hand in hers, feeling him trying to pull away.

"No one's perfect."  Her smile disappeared when she spoke next.  "You still don't trust me, do you?"  Spike began to object but decided against it.  She knew him so well.  He hated the fact that he didn't know her as she knew him.

"That obvious?"  Buffy frowned.

"You won't even let me touch you."  Spike sighed in frustration.  "So, yeah.  I'd say it's obvious."  Spike took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

"Look.  I know that there was something between us.  I can see it every time I look into your eyes.  But I don't remember that life."  He thought that the news would upset her.  But he was wrong.  She kept looking at him, never taking her eyes off him.  "And until I do, this isn't a good idea."  He gently removed her hand, taking a step back.  The silence would have been deafening if it weren't for the birds chirping nearby.  Spike finally looked back at Buffy, seeing that she never stopped looking at him.  "I should go."

Buffy nodded, her face emotionless.  Spike nodded back, then turned to walk away.  As he started to move, Buffy's voice stopped him.  "I'll wait for you."  Spike turned back, not understanding what she meant.  But the look on her face explained everything he needed to know.  Buffy stood her ground, a small smile on her face even though her eyes reflected the sorrow in her.  "Till the end of the world."  Spike smiled, feeling the familiarity in her words.

"Good night, Slayer."  Buffy's smile grew as she spoke.

"Buffy."

"What's that?"

"My name is Buffy."  Spike nodded, a smirk on his face.

"Good night, Buffy."

"Good night, Spike."  One more shared smile and Spike began to walk away from the house, leaving Buffy clutching her plastic cup with the racecar on the side, never knowing what that night had meant to her.

_To be continued_


	9. Just Another Day

Title:  Just Another Day

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  R (Language and Sexual Situations)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to What's My Line II, Band Candy, Helpless, Earshot, Graduation Day I, No Place Like Home, Fool for Love, Checkpoint, Intervention, After Life, Gone, Doublemeat Palace, and Dead Things.

Summary:  Ninth part of Falling into You series.  Also, reread Falling into You, Who Dares, Wins, and The Doctor is in or you're going to miss out on some parts.

Status:  Finished (Part IX of ?)

He stirred from his slumber, the touch on his skin almost burning him.  He slowly opened his eyes to see her on top of him, a playful smile on her face.  He returned the smile, his hand moving to touch her face.  However, before he could, her hand captured his in an embrace, slowly pushing it over his head.  He gently chuckled.  "So, what's this then?  Wanna play rough?"  She moved her face closer to his, her chest on top of his now.  The silk of her slip ignited his nerves as she slid up his body.

"If you want to.  As long as we get to play."  Her lips fell on the hollow of his neck, gently kissing the sensitive skin there, her tongue softly flicking against it.  As he sighed at her touch, he moved his free hand to her side, wanting to touch her.  As though she read his mind, her free hand gently gripped it, pushing it to join his other hand.  Her lips worked their way up to his chin, languishing there.

"This isn't fair, luv.  Why won't you let me touch you?"  Before he got the answer, he felt her slide over him, him into her.  He turned his head to the side, savoring the feeling of her all about him as he let out a small groan.  Her lips now hovered over his ear, whispering.

"Is that better?"  He tried to answer coherently, the sensation of her moving over him driving him to the precipice.

"Yeah.  Better."  He slowly closed his eyes, wanting to lose himself in her.  But she wouldn't let him.  Not yet.

"Look at me."  He complied, willing to do anything for her.  He was hers.  Their eyes locked, a small moan escaping her lips as she began to envelop more of him.  He lifted his mouth to hers, silencing her.  Her kiss forced his head back onto the pillow, her hands relaxing their grip.  Losing themselves in the kiss, her hands were now in his hair, his moving to her back.  Desperately wanting to be closer, he pulled her closer to him, feeling every curve of her body against his.  She suddenly broke the kiss, leaving him missing her that much more.  Before he could voice his protest, she slowly pulled her top over her head, revealing her world to him.  She gently smiled at him, he returning it in kind.

"Cor, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"You're not so bad yourself."  She grinned at him, her hands now pressed against his chest.  Missing the feel of her, he slowly lifted himself up to her, his arms sliding under hers, his hands in her hair, gently grazing her scalp.  His lips moved to the crook of her neck, gently suckling on her warm, soft skin.  She moaned, her voice now a trembling plea.  "Right there."

He felt her begin to move over him once again, his lips moving up her neck, to her earlobe.  He gently nibbled as she began to moan louder, he now moving with her.  Her arms moved from her side, pulling his head up to hers, their lips once again in union.  Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, wanting to feel him.  They moaned as they moved, as one.  She reluctantly pulled away, taking a much-needed breath.  He hungrily moved back to her, but her hand got in the way, her fingers on his lips.  He looked confused, wondering what she was up to.

"What's wrong, luv?"  Her response startled him momentarily.

"Do you love me?"  He looked at her, contemplating the emotion on her face, that of worry.  He gently smiled against her fingers.

"More than you'll ever know."  Her face glowed as she heard his declaration.  While they were being honest, he had to know.  "Do you love me?"  Her hands slowly fell to her sides, the smile now replaced by a frown.  After a moment of silence, she answered.

"I can't."  He stared at her, a frown on his face as the words sank in.

"Why not?"  Her left hand moved to his face, gently cupping the right side.  She looked at him with…what?  He couldn't place the emotion.  Was it sympathy?  Before he could answer the question, she answered his.

"Because you're beneath me."  As he contemplated her words, his emotions in utter turmoil, her right hand flew from her side toward his chest.  He winced as her hand remained upon his chest.  He slowly looked down, seeing only her hand curled up in a ball.  However, as she slowly uncurled her fingers, the object of his immediate pain came into view.  She held her right hand up to him, blood covering her palm.  His hands slowly fell off her body as the realization hit him.  As the stake protruded from his chest.  He looked at her questioningly, a look of shock and confusion now gracing his face.  She smiled as though she was smiling to a complete stranger she had met during a chance encounter as she spoke.  "I could never love a monster."

Spike's eyes flew open, the first thing to grace his vision the ceiling.  He lay motionless in the bed before his mind caught up with the surroundings.  He was in the bedroom.  Spike slowly turned to his side to get a better view of the clock on the nightstand.  It was almost seven.  Was that right?  The last thing he remembered was going to bed around two.

Spike slowly lifted himself out of the bed, his feet hitting the carpet.  He ran his hands through his hair, letting out an audible sigh.  As he pushed himself to his feet, Spike could see the first morning rays filtering through the blinds of the window.  It was odd.  No longer fearing the sun.  Before it had been the harbinger of death.  Now, it was an indication of life.

He moved into the bathroom, his hand finding the light switch.  As the overhead fan whirred noisily, Spike moved his hand across his face.  Stubble.  Another new fact.  While he had been shaving for a while now, the fact that he hadn't in over a century now perplexed him.  Before meeting Buffy, he led a normal life.  He worked at a normal job.  He was a normal accountant.  He tended to his normal flowers.  He watched his normal programs on the telly.  But the more than normal woman turned his life about on its heels.  Buffy.

His eyes looked upon his reflection in the mirror, moving to his hair.  His blondish brown hair, tousled about from his dream no doubt.  Spike ran a hand through his hair, a contemplative look in the mirror.  How in the world did he plaster it back on his scalp as though it was a bloody helmet?  And peroxide blonde?  What on earth was he thinking?  Maybe he should bleach it, just to see what it felt like.  Before he could ponder the thought, the alarm from the bedroom shrieked throughout the apartment.  Spike grumbled as he walked back into the bedroom.  "Already up, you unreliable piece of…"

Spike's finger found its way onto the off button on top of the clock radio, the red digits flashing seven at him now.  He slowly spun around, his eyes falling onto the bags near the bedroom door.  Their flight was at eight.  "Better get a move on, Spike."  He made his way back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he started the shower.

"I wish I could go with you."  Giles turned his head, his eyes glancing over his shoulder at Buffy as he finished placing the last shirt into his suitcase.  Giles lowered the top for the briefcase, pulling the zipper around the perimeter.  Once he placed the lock through the holes of the zipper, confident that it was secure, he turned back to Buffy.  She leaned against the doorframe, a look of distress on her face.  Giles moved closer to her as he spoke.

"I know you want to, but you have things here that need your attention."  He could see the worry in her eyes now.  She didn't want him to leave.  Both of them.  "There's work.  And Dawn.  And protecting the populace."  Buffy eyed him, a hint of amusement on her face.

"Populace?  Make it sound like I'm a one man army."  Giles answered, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Well, I guess you are at that."  Giles adjusted the frame of his glasses as he spoke.  "Will we be meeting Xander and Anya at the airport?"  Buffy nodded.

"Yep.  They said they had a meeting with the florist after.  So they'll go do that after we see you off."  Giles gently smiled.

"Well, guess I'll be back soon, then.  Wouldn't want to miss out on the big event."  He had first met Alexander Harris while he was a sophomore in high school.  And now he was literally days away from becoming a husband.  And a father after that.  And a grandfather.  Giles shook his head.  Amazing what could happen, given the right amount of time.  Buffy's voice jarred him from his thoughts.

"So, is Spike going to meet us here…"  He could tell from the tone of her voice that things were still unresolved between her and Spike.

"Um, no.  He's going to meet us there as well."  Giles continued to speak as Dawn scurried past the door, down the stairs.  "Seems logical, seeing as how he's closer to the airport than we are."  Buffy nodded again.  Her memories began to stir, remembering their last encounter.  He didn't trust her.  So how could he possibly ever love her?  Without trust, there couldn't be love.  She softly chuckled at her thought.  The roles were reversed now.  She was hopelessly in love with him while he wouldn't allow himself to love her.  Buffy turned her gaze back to Giles, who was now holding the handle of the suitcase in his hand.  Buffy gently smiled at him.

"Got everything?"  Giles nodded.  "Well, let's go grab some breakfast before we leave.  Tara should be done with the pancakes by now."

"Okay.  I'll just put this by the front door with the other bags and I'll be right there."  Buffy nodded as she walked away from the bedroom door.  Giles frowned as he eyed the room for the last time.  As much as he enjoyed his time back in Sunnydale, barring acts of torture, he was going to miss being here for her.  For Buffy.  But she had her own life now.  And he had his.  Giles slowly moved out of the room, closing the door behind him.

She stood next to Dawn, while the others sat in the seats placed in rows as though a class was about to be held in the terminal.  She anxiously looked around, wondering if he was going to show.  Of course he was going to show.  It was his flight, after all.  No flight, no London.  No London, no Council.  And no Council, no answers.  And as much as it pained her to admit, she wanted him to go.  The sooner he got what he needed, the sooner she'd see him again.  Dawn noted the odd behavior on Buffy's part by the way her brow was thoroughly furrowed.  Buffy deep in thought was a troubled Buffy.  "What's wrong?"  Buffy looked at her sister, a small smile on Dawn's face.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Then why are you thinking so hard?"  Buffy gave her a puzzled look until she realized that her composure was one of tense rigidity.  Buffy returned Dawn's smile, trying to downplay the seriousness of her thoughts.

"I always look like this when I think."  Dawn softly laughed.

"Then you must not think a lot then."  Buffy gently tapped Dawn's nose playfully, Dawn wincing in mock pain.  "You like picking on people smaller than you, don't you?"

"No, just annoying sisters."  That's when they heard the voice.  His voice.

"Well, that's not very familial, now is it?"  Buffy turned her gaze from Dawn, looking upon Spike, now standing in front of her, a bag slung about his shoulder, another in his right hand.  He moved toward Dawn, gently stroking her long, brown hair.  "Want me to rough her up for you, niblet?"  The smile on Dawn's face grew as she heard the word.  He had called her niblet.  His pet name for her.  She felt giddy upon realizing that this was indeed Spike.  She motioned for him to come nearer.  "Hmm, what's this?"  As he moved closer to her, Dawn flung her arms around his neck, almost pulling him to the ground.  Spike gently chuckled as he lifted her from the ground, Dawn hanging from his neck, giggling.

"It's really you, isn't it?"  Spike smiled over her shoulder, looking at the group that had now gathered around them.  He couldn't help but notice Buffy looking at him, a gentle smile on her face.

"It's me, Dawn.  Most of me, anyway."  Her response surprised him.

"Then stay.  Don't go."  Spike's smile subsided as he lowered her to the ground.  As he moved away from her, their gaze locked.

"I have to go, Dawn."

"But why?"  Of course they didn't tell her what had happened.  As far as she was concerned, the person standing in front of her was the Spike she always knew.  Buffy moved to Dawn's side, her hand on her little sister's shoulder.

"Dawnie."  She shrugged Buffy's hand from her shoulder while she continued looking at Spike.

"No.  I don't understand."  Spike could see that her eyes were beginning to well with tears.  "I just got you back.  Why do I have to lose you again?"  Spike looked at Dawn, his emotions about to get the better of him.  He was about to say sod the whole thing.  But then he noticed Buffy gently wrapping her arm around Dawn's shoulder, trying to console her.  Buffy.  He couldn't stay.  He needed to make sure.  He needed his memories back.  It was the only way he could ever fathom coming back here.  Spike knelt in front of Dawn as he moved his hand into his pocket.

"I can't tell you all the reasons why I have to go."  He could see Buffy's demeanor stiffen as she realized what he was alluding to.  To their incident in the cemetery.  To their moment of lost faith.  To their moment of uncertainty.  Spike slowly pulled his hand out of the pocket, clutching an object in his palm.  "But I remember a promise I made.  And I'm gonna keep it right now."  Dawn looked at him quizzically as the others remained silent, watching the scene unfold.  "Open your hand, pigeon."  He gently smiled at her, his eyes soft and full of tenderness.  She slowly extended her hand out, tears evident in her eyes.  Spike held his hand out over hers, gently releasing the object to fall into hers.  He slowly moved his palm from over hers, revealing the object for all to see.  He felt happy as the smile emerged on Dawn's face.  Buffy gently smiled as the rest of the group looked on in puzzlement.  Xander spoke.

"It's just a mirror."  Spike looked up at him, wondering how daft a person could be.  He could see from Dawn's eyes that she was probably thinking the same thing.  Xander looked embarrassed now as he fumbled for closure.  "Right?"  Dawn turned back to Spike, wiping the tears from her eyes.  She smiled as she spoke.

"How'd you get it?  I gave it to Buffy to keep."  Spike grinned, deciding on keeping the truth from her.

"She let me hold it for a bit.  Thought it might stir up some memories."  He gently chuckled.  It definitely did that.  That and much more.  "Seemed to work, wouldn't you say?"  Dawn giggled as she held the pocket mirror once again.  Spike's hand was now on hers, slowly tilting it ever so slightly.  Dawn's gaze fell on Spike until he spoke once again, his eyes motioning her.  "Look."  Her eyes moved from Spike to the mirror, the look of confusion transforming to one of happiness as she realized what she was seeing.  Her eyes flew from the mirror, joy mingling with excitement.  Spike smiled softly, his voice a whisper.  "You were right."

Dawn moved to Spike once again, her arms wrapping around his neck, her head against the crook of his neck.  The tears came this time as she spoke.  "I knew it.  I knew it."  Spike gently wrapped his arms around her waist, noting that Buffy was smiling at him while the realization began to sink in for the others.  Anya broke the silence.

"Wow.  A vampire with a reflection."  Buffy turned back to Anya, a look of annoyance on her face.  Unfortunately, Anya didn't pick up on it as she continued.  "How is this possible?"  Tara noted Buffy's look and decided to intervene.

"Probably the same way a vampire can stand in direct sunlight without getting all flamey."  Spike smirked at Tara's comment as he continued to hold Dawn.  After a moment, Dawn slowly moved away from Spike, her hands still about his neck.

"This is why you're going, right?"  Spike nodded, somewhat relieved that Dawn understood why he had to leave.  "You think you'll find out what happened to you in London, right?"

"That's right, bit."  Spike moved his hands over Dawn's, slowly pulling them in between their bodies.  He closed his hand over hers, feeling the mirror in her grip.  "So I want you to keep this safe.  I'm coming back for it."  Dawn meekly smiled.

"Okay.  This time I won't let Buffy touch it."  Spike gently chuckled as he saw Buffy awkwardly smile.  He remembered that night in the cemetery when it had fallen out of the coat pocket.  His coat pocket.  The same coat she had been wearing when she was in the cemetery.  His coat.  First his coat.  Then his mirror.  That wasn't the act of an enemy.  But then again, she could have been keeping them as trophies.  Goddamn memories.  Why couldn't he remember?  Spike shook the memory away, looking back at Dawn.

"It's okay, Dawn.  She can see it." He gently squeezed her hand before letting go.  "Just make sure you keep it safe though.  Okay?"

"Okay."  Spike gave her a quick wink as he walked past her toward the rest of the group, noting their awkward postures.  He couldn't blame them.  From what he could remember, none of them gave a damn about him before.  Why should they now?  He knew the answer even before he asked the question.  Buffy.  It was always Buffy.  Spike looked over the group before moving toward Xander.  Spike eyed him curiously, noting that he was still wincing.

"Ribs still bothering you?"  Xander nodded, his arms staying close to his body so as to not move about too much.

"Yeah.  But this neat body vest keeps them from moving too much.  The doc said that the damage wasn't that excessive so I don't need to be wrapped up in plaster."  Xander smiled as he spoke again.  "Just like salami."  Spike eyed him.

"Sorry, mate.  Don't quite get the reference."  Giles filled in the blank.

"The vest feels like almost like a salami coating."  Xander nodded at Giles while Giles continued.  "Although, I would describe it more like a vise."

"Or a very manly corset."  Buffy and Dawn chuckled at Tara's insight as Giles frowned at Tara.  Xander   Spike smirked as he moved toward Giles.

"So, you gonna be okay on the plane?  What with the pressure change and all?"  Giles nodded, a wan smile on his face.  Who was this standing in front of him?  It looked like Spike.  But it didn't sound like Spike.  He was actually concerned.

"I'll be fine.  The bones have begun mending and the body vest should be able to hold me together until we get to London."  Spike nodded at Giles while shooting him a smirk.  Had to hand it to the codger.  He had a set all right.

"Right.  So, is the plane at the terminal yet?"  As though the announcer heard him, the message came through.

"Flight twenty-eight for London is now boarding.  Repeat.  Flight twenty-eight for London is now boarding."  Giles looked at Spike, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Does that answer your question?"  Spike nodded.

"Does at that."  Spike turned around slowly, seeing the looks on all of the people gathered behind him.  Dawn was sulking now, but the chance of tears was nonexistent now.  That moment had passed when he all but promised her that he was coming back.  However, he wasn't entirely sure if he was or not, so, technically, it wasn't a lie.  "C'mere, Dawn."  She slowly walked over to him, into his outstretched arms.  Spike folded his arms once again around the small figure, his lips planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.  He looked up to the group, speaking to Xander next.  "You'll keep your word, right?"  Xander eyed him quizzically until Spike subtly moved his eyes toward Buffy.  Xander nodded as he spoke.

"I don't like it.  But, yeah.  I'll keep my word."  Anya eyed both men suspiciously; unsure of what has just transpired.  But she didn't speak.  Instead, she wound her arm under Xander's as she looked on at Spike.

"Have a safe trip.  And bring back lots of souvenirs."  Spike smirked at Anya, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"We'll see."  His eyes fell on Tara, who he saw was still unsure of how to act around him.  It was evident though.  She didn't hate him.  Based on the look on her face, Spike was sure that the woman standing with her arms tentatively wrapped about her chest never actually hated him.  Not like the others.  "Take care of the Summers for me, okay?"  Tara meekly smiled.

"I can do that."

"Thanks, luv.  And take care of yourself while you're at it."  Her smile widened as he winked at her.  He knew that she genuinely liked him because there's no way she'd ever find him attractive.  Well, not in a sexual manner anyway.  Spike eyes finally fell on her, a look of sadness in her eyes.  Buffy.  "Niblet, can you give us a moment?"  Dawn looked up, a small smile on her face as she backed away slowly, not wanting to let him go.  Dawn joined the rest of the group, now saying their goodbyes to Giles.  Before they knew it, Buffy and Spike were alone once again.  And the discomfort was there once again as well.  Neither knew where to start so Buffy bit the bullet.

"So, did you pack everything?"  Spike nodded at her, his hand now on the bag slung over his shoulder.

"Think so.  Even brought a camera."  Buffy smiled as he continued speaking.  He actually listened to her recommendation.  Before Buffy could speak again, Spike interrupted the silence.  "Can I ask you a favor, pet?"  She answered truthfully.

"Anything."  Spike reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a set of keys.  He fiddled with the ring until the key he was looking for fell into view.  He held it between his thumb and forefinger, up to Buffy.

"My place's paid up for the year.  So, I was wondering if you'd stop by once in a while to water my flowers."  He knew that would be asking too much of her.  She had her own life.  The last thing she needed was to water some bloody plants.  "I mean, if you have the time.  Because, if you don't, I can always ask…"

"I'll do it."  He noted her warm smile as she looked at him.  Spike returned the smile, albeit awkwardly.

"Um.  Right, then."  Buffy held her hand out, allowing Spike to drop them into her grasp like he did earlier with the mirror.  However, he didn't drop them this time.  Instead, he gently placed them in her hand, their palms gently caressing, touching as he did so.  Buffy smiled, noting the look on his face.  He looked so cute, acting like a lovelorn teenager around her.  But that couldn't be true.  He didn't even trust her.  So, why did he ask her to water his flowers?  She needed to tell him.  Before he left.  Giles told her to tell him.  Before it was too late.

"Final boarding for flight twenty-eight to London.  Repeat.  Final boarding for flight twenty-eight to London."  They locked their gaze on one another, realizing that there was so much that remained unsaid between the two of them and not enough time to say it in.  Spike eyed her curiously before looking back to the gate, noting the passengers moving through the gate.

"Hmm, guess that's last call."

"Yeah."  Buffy wanted to grab him.  To tell him to stay.  To never leave her again.  But he needed to go.  He had to go.  If there was any chance of a future for the both of them.  A moment of silence between the two before Giles' voice floated over their shoulder.

"Spike, are we ready to depart?"  He looked back over his shoulder, giving him a quick nod.  Then his eyes fell back on Buffy's, noting the swell of emotions now evident there.  He wondered if she was seeing the same in his as he spoke.

"So, guess this is it."  Buffy tried desperately for the words.  She needed to tell him before it was too late.  He had to know how she felt.  He needed the truth.  "Take care of yourself, luv."

"You too, Spike."  There wasn't not enough time to tell him.  He didn't deserve it to be thrown at him like an afterthought.  She'd wait for him.  She'd do this right.  "Remember.  Lots of pictures."  Spike gently laughed as he spoke.

"Will do, luv."  One more look at the woman that had completely changed his life before he walked over to Giles, helping him with his extra bag as they walked off to the terminal.  She'd tell him when he returned to Sunnydale.  After all, how long could he possibly stay in London?

To say London was like putting on an old pair of shoes would definitely be an understatement.  Even though it had only been a few months since he left England for Sunnydale, Spike found himself marveling at the surroundings.  How could the weather be so damn dreary?  Kind of made Sunnydale seem like a vacation resort.  Well, the kind that was situated on the Hellmouth.  But, that was just a minor quibble.  Really.

The memories began to flood back into his conscious as soon as he stepped foot off the plane.  Doc had made all of the preparations, gotten the right paperwork in order for Spike's travels.  After all, it wasn't like a vampire has a passport.  Spike looked down at the small blue book, marveling at how, with relative ease, Doc had given him a life.  He read the name under the photograph.  "Rocco Gaiman."  If that was a pun, Spike wasn't laughing.  He'd have to do something about getting his name changed eventually.  He'd have to ask Giles about that bit of information once he got back from the store.

It had been nearly two weeks since they'd been in London, and Spike had no idea of what it was exactly Giles did for a living.  Apparently, he still worked for the Council.  But, as for what exactly he did, that was the enigma.  Probably another glorified bookkeeper.  Honestly, Spike couldn't see Giles doing anything else, given the number of times he'd been against and with him during their struggles.    Funny, that.  Spike felt like a coin, switching from side to side, whenever he thought about his past.  But, the past was still blurry.

And it had been two weeks without any progress from the Council.  You'd think they'd be anxious to get their pet project back.  But, what if Doc had been lying to him.  What if he was believing the fictions of a madman?  But the passport in his hand told him the truth.  It had been stamped when he left London and stamped again when he entered Los Angeles.  Spike tossed the passport onto the bed, moving to his feet.

Two weeks.  God.  What was taking so damn long?  "Ah, sod it all."  Spike moved to his suitcase, searching the side pocket.  "Know I put the bloody things in here."  A few desperate swipes of his hand before he came into contact with the small box.  "Ahh, there you are."  Spike pulled the carton out of the pocket, tearing the shrink-wrap away.  He tapped the box against his hand before he opened it.  His thumb and forefinger gently grasped the cigarette, pulling it slowly out of the package before they placed it between his lips.

That's when the frown came.  Of course he didn't pack a lighter.  Why would he, when a dangling cigarette is just so exquisite?  Spike moved from the bedroom into the kitchen.  He turned on the range on the stove, holding the cigarette over the now glowing coil.  "Light, damn you."  Two goddamn weeks stuck in the flat.  Giles had suggested that it would be best if Spike stayed indoors.  After all, there was no telling what had transpired during his time in London.  No reason to risk exposure.  But, to tell the truth, Spike could go for a spot of violence right about now.  Because the damn cigarette wasn't catching.  At that moment, Spike heard the lock tumble open, Giles shuffling inside of the apartment; paper crinkling as he did so.

"Spike?"

"In the kitchen."  Giles moved into the kitchen, dropping his keys back into his pants pocket, a brown paper bag in his other arm.  He couldn't help but smile at the sight that awaited him.

"I thought I told you no smoking in the flat?"  Spike never looked at him as he huffed frustration.

"Well, technically, I'm not."  Spike's voice swelled as he spoke again.  "Because this damn thing's mocking me!"  Giles' chuckle caught his attention.  "That's right.  Laugh at the wanker that could twist your head clean off."  Giles laughed harder now as he placed the bag on the counter, moving to a drawer next to the dishwasher.  He grabbed the object, tossing it onto the stove.

"Try those."  One more look before he began unpacking the items from the bag.  "And you're welcome."  Spike turned off the range, his hand encircling the matchbook.  He flipped the top away, tearing off a match and striking it against the rough strip.  Spike's eyes lit up like a child as the flame expanded from the tip of the match.  He held the match up to his mouth, the cigarette now glowing.  He waved the match into the air; extinguishing the flame, smoke curling from the tip.  Then he took a long drag.

"Mmm, that's the stuff."  Spike tossed the match into the bin as he looked over to Giles, his demeanor now relaxed.  "So, what'd you grab for dinner tonight, mate?"  Spike looked down at the counter, seeing two glasses on the counter.  "What's this, then?"  Giles pulled the bottle out of the bag, a slight grin on his face.  Spike looked at him quizzically before reading the label.  "Karpatske?"  Giles knew that his selection hadn't been wasted based on the look of awe on Spike's face.  "Stuff's a bloody classic.  What's the occasion, Rupert?"  Giles opened the bottle of brandy, pouring a liberal amount into each glass.  He held up a glass, indicating to Spike to grab the other.

"You're in."  Spike held the butt of the cigarette between his index and middle finger, his hand cupping the glass while the weight of the words began to sink in.

"I'm in?"  Giles chuckled.

"That's right.  Took some haranguing, but the Council's finally ready to see you."  Spike smirked at Giles, moving his glass toward the Watcher's.  As the glasses clinked, they shared a laugh.  "'Bout bloody time."

"Yes.  But it seems that they're very interested in meeting you now.  Before, they could have cared less."

"Why's that?"  Giles sighed as he brought the glass to his lips.

"I honestly have no idea for the change in their behavior."  Spike chuckled before he took a long sip.

"You know, for being in the know, you don't really know much, do you?"  Spike couldn't help but notice how much he sounded like Buffy in that instance.  She may be irritating as hell, but she had her moments.  Giles took another sip before placing the glass onto the counter.

"Well, that may be true, but the fact is, tomorrow, you have an audience with Quentin Travers."  The name sounded so familiar.

"He the bloke that gave Buffy trouble a few years ago?"  Then a name flashed in his mind.  "Glory?  Something about Glory."  Then he was in a hotel room, his hands chained, dangling from the roof.  He was bloodied, bruised.  And that bitch kept smiling as she kept asking him about the Key.  Giles could see the look in his eyes.  Something had clicked.  He decided to help him along.

"That's right.  He wanted to gain control of Buffy after she quit the Council."  Spike thought his hearing suddenly went wonky.

"Come again, mate?  Buffy left the Council?  The all powerful Council?"  Giles smiled while Spike snuffed the cigarette against the counter, tossing the remnants into the trash.

"That's right.  But that's not the point."  Spike interrupted him.

"No, that's a pretty big point."  It all made sense now.  Why Buffy didn't care for the Council.  Because she had walked away from them.  Must have been a hell of a reason.  Spike turned his attention back to Giles.  "All this time, I thought she was working for them."

"She is."

"But you just said…"  Giles waved at him.

"You care to let me finish my narrative?"  Spike shrugged his shoulder as he took another sip.  "Very well.  Things went very sour between her and the Council when she was tested during her eighteenth birthday."

"Tested?"  Giles sighed as he furrowed his brow.  Apparently, whatever he had to say to Spike troubled him greatly.  But, he was grateful that Giles was filling in the blanks for him where Buffy was concerned.

"Every Slayer is tested during their eighteenth birthday.  They have their powers taken away and then given a test.  If they pass, they continue working for the Council."  The silence was deafening now.  Spike had to ask.

"And if they fail?"

"They die."  Giles' hand found the glass once again as he took a rather considerable swig.  This was definitely not a pleasant memory for the Watcher.  Spike considered this for a while before he spoke.

"And you had some hand in this, innit right?"  Giles nodded, his eyes now focused on his drink.  Spike knew there was probably more to the story, so he spoke.  "So, what happened next?  Apparently, Buffy passed because she's at home right now, spending some quality time with the niblet."

"Well, I was dismissed as her Watcher after that incident.  The Council thought I cared for her well being too much to be an effective Watcher."

"Rot.  You treat her like your own flesh and blood.  That'd make you better for the job, not worse."  Giles offered him a slight smile as he continued.

"Anyway, the real trouble came when Angel was poisoned by Faith."  Giles could see Spike trying to piece the names together by the look in his eyes, so he clarified.  "Faith was the Slayer sent up after Buffy died."

"You mean, after she jumped?"  Spike couldn't believe that those words had come out of his mouth.  But there they were.  And in his mind, he could see her falling through the gate, his eyes filling with tears, as she fell to her death.  Spike jarred himself back to reality, beginning to see a discrepancy with his thoughts.  "But, I don't remember ever seeing Faith.  So, how's that possible?"

"Because she died before that."  Spike almost choked on his brandy as he digested this bit of information.

"Wait.  She's died twice?!?"  Giles nodded.

"The Master killed her."  Spike shook his head, unable to place the images together fast enough as they began flying through his mind.  Focus on why she quit the Council.  Sod everything else.  After a moment, Spike composed himself.

"Too much information, mate.  One death at a time, if you don't mind."  Giles thought Spike was joking, but the look on his face was one of seriousness.  Of course he was being sincere.  He didn't have full access to his memories, and bombarding him with this much information must be wreaking havoc with his thoughts.  Giles offered him a small smile as he polished off his glass of brandy, refilling it almost immediately.

"Right.  Well, after Faith poisoned Angel, Buffy asked the Council for help in curing him.  But they wouldn't."

"Why not?"  Giles looked at Spike for a moment, realizing the severity of his memory lapse at that moment.  He had no idea what Angel was.  He could see from Spike's demeanor that he knew who Angel was.  That much was evident based on the tone of his voice.  He remembered Angel.  Giles contemplated whether he should continue.  But he knew the answer before he began thinking about the situation.  Buffy had told him about what had happened when they withheld the truth from Spike initially.  It had almost cost Buffy her life.  Giles exhaled as he spoke.

"Because he was a vampire."  Giles paused for a moment to see how Spike would react to the news.  Apparently, Spike was thinking based by the furrow in his brow.

"Because he was a vampire in love with a Slayer."

"I don't think that would have been a factor for the Council, but since Wesley was the one informing them about Angel, one can never be too sure."  Spike eyed him, puzzlement on his face.

"Wesley?"  Spike placed his now empty glass on the counter, Giles pouring him another helping.

"Doesn't matter."  Giles topped the bottle once again while Spike nodded his approval.

"Thanks, mate."  He brought the glass to his lips, savoring the taste of the brandy swirling around in his mouth before he swallowed.  "So, that's when Buffy stepped away from the Council?"

"That about the gist of it."  Spike nodded, thinking back to what Buffy had told him earlier.  About the Council.

"So, Buffy would come back to those wankers, why?"  Giles smirked before he spoke.

"She didn't run back to them.  It was the other way around, actually."  Spike joined him as Giles began chuckling.

"Is that right?"

"The Council needed her more than she needed them."  Giles held the glass in his hand, gently spinning it on the counter as he spoke.  "After all, what good is a group of Watchers without anyone to watch?"

"But what about Faith?"  Giles responded quickly.

"She's in jail."  Spike knew there was probably a long, convoluted story behind that response, so he left it alone.  Maybe he'd ask later.  But, for now, this little chat was about the Council.  And Buffy.

"So, the Watchers needed purpose for their existence, and they came groveling?  Doesn't sound like the Council I've read about."  Giles softly chuckled as Spike took another sip, as though it was a mechanical response at this point.  He wasn't drinking for enjoyment right now.  He was drinking because it was there.  Because there was something to do between bouts of silence.

"Not exactly.  They had a whole charade in place.  Ultimately, they wanted Buffy to believe that she was nothing without them."  Spike finished Giles' thought.

"But, Buffy, not being one to be bossed around, turned the tables on those wankers."  Giles nodded as Spike looked at him with an air of confusion.  Why was he smiling?  He was a Watcher, after all.  "So, how come you don't get all up in arms whenever Buffy gives it good to the Council?"  Spike placed the glass on the counter, his hands now wrapped across his chest.  "You're a Watcher, right?"

"Yes.  I am a Watcher.  But I was also Buffy's Watcher."  Giles took another sip, indicating that he was done answering Spike's query.

"And?"

"And what?"  Spike sighed in frustration, his hands running through his hair.

"So, what's the story there?  You and Buffy?"  Giles gave Spike a sincere smile before he spoke once again.

"I'd do anything for her.  Even if it meant turning my back on the Council, I'd do it without a second thought."  Giles' voice dropped to a whisper as he continued.  "She's the daughter I'll never have."  Spike gently clapped the Watcher's shoulder, indicating that he understood what Giles was trying to say.  Spike had enough of this trip down memory lane.  It was time to focus on tomorrow.

"So, any pointers on how to carry on once I meet this Quentin bloke?"  Giles smiled.

"Don't let him get an inch on you.  Once he does, Quentin won't let up."  Spike nodded, thinking back to Buffy's information on how to deal with the Council that morning in front of her house.  The last morning he'd shared with her.

"Right.  Beat their bloody brains in if they give me too much lip."  Both men shared a small laugh at the mental image both were forming.  Giles looked at the bottle, seeing that they had gone through a little over half of it in a single sitting.  It didn't matter though.  This was a night to celebrate.  Giles shook his head, wondering how events had transpired for Spike to be standing in his flat in Bath, sharing a drink.  Life was strange indeed.  Giles polished off the rest of brandy in his glass before he spoke.

"Before that, though.  What's say you and me go out and celebrate?  After all, this is a major step in getting the answers Doc eluded to."  Spike thought about the offer for a brief moment before he spoke.

"What the hell.  I'm already half pissed.  Why not go all the way?"  Giles smirked at Spike as both men made their way into the living room, grabbing their coats as Giles opened the door.

"So, how do you feel about Indian?"  Spike chuckled as he spoke.

"I'll let you know in a few hours when I'm tossing in the bathroom."  Another shared laugh as they stepped out into the hallway, Spike glad that things were finally looking up.

Five o' clock finally rolled around.  Not soon enough for Buffy, though.  How could such a mundane task as managing a teller window be so exhausting?  The only time she felt invigorated anymore was when she went on patrol.  And even then, there was something missing.  Spike.  She had gotten so accustomed to him being around that she missed him even more when he left for England.  Buffy sighed as she cleared away the extraneous receipts and locked up the teller drawer.

"Have a nice night, Buffy."  She smiled at Peggy as she gathered her bag.  She was the only person that had accepted her into the social circle when she started working at the bank.  They'd even had lunch together a few times when their breaks coincided.  To tell the truth, Peggy was probably the first friend she'd made since high school.  After all, the only friends she'd known since she came to Sunnydale were the gang.  There were boyfriends along the way, but they all left.  Just like Spike.  Buffy dispelled the thought from her mind, not wanting to dwell on the negative.

"Night, Peg.  See ya tomorrow."  Peggy rewarded Buffy with a courteous smile before Buffy made her way out of the bank.  Spike.  She had wanted to go with Giles and Spike.  But that was an impossibility.  She had responsibilities.  Not necessarily to slaying.  The gang would have covered for her until she came back.  But they couldn't pay the bills for her.  They couldn't work at the bank for her.  They couldn't be a mother to Dawn.  Only Buffy could accomplish these tasks.  And, to think, she was in high school just a few years ago.  How quickly things changed.

Then there was the fact that she could have threatened the Council to tell Spike everything that he needed to know.  After their last encounter, Buffy had made it very clear on who was actually in charge.  No Slayer, no Watchers.  No Watchers, no job.  But she couldn't.  Well, she could, but she knew that Spike would never have accepted the offer.  Not with the lack of trust now hovering between the both of them.  But, it was slowly rebuilding.  After all, he had asked her to tend to his flowers until he got back.  And, that she did.  In fact, she cherished those moments, standing on the balcony, surrounded by his flowers.  She loved the scent that danced across the air as she stood in the darkness, feeling him next to her.

Buffy stopped off at the Doublemeat Palace, purchasing enough to feed a family of three.  And, they were that.  With Tara living with them now, it felt like a small family.  It was also a great help to Buffy as well.  While Buffy did the work scene, Tara tended to the house when she got back from her classes.  She was also there for Dawn when she got home from school.  That was such a great relief that Buffy couldn't even begin to thank Tara for doing the things she was doing for both Buffy and Dawn.  In all reality, Tara didn't owe them anything.  But, there she was, pitching in.  Being there for them.  Just like she was when Buffy first told her about her relationship with Spike.  It was the most frustrating, depressing, confusing day of her life, but Tara was there for comfort.  And Buffy would never be able to repay her, no matter what.  What Tara had offered them was more than valuable.  It was essential.

Buffy said her goodbyes to her former coworkers before stepping back outside.  She carefully gripped the paper bag as she made her way down the sidewalk.  The walk home was uneventful.  Basically because the sun was still out and the vamps and other nasties tended to come out when it was dark.  No matter, she'd tend to them eventually.  Right now, she wanted to get home and take her shoes off.  Man, but her feet were killing her.  Guess standing for eight plus hours behind a teller window will do that.  Funny.  Falling from a two-story building with a monk didn't hurt as much as standing behind a counter.  Maybe her Slayer powers only pertained to battling evil.  Buffy gently laughed at the thought as she found her way on Rivelo Drive.  

While she didn't mind the walk, she'd have to look into getting a driver's license soon.  There were times when having access to a car would prove invaluable.  Like heading over to the convenience store at three in the morning for a Squishie.  Buffy couldn't help it.  She was addicted to those sugary ice treats now.  Leave it to Spike to find something else for her to become attached to.  First him.  Now his love of Squishies.  Damn him.  Okay, so she didn't really mean that.  But she missed him.  Maybe that's why she was still going to the convenience store.  It reminded her of their night together.  Everything had been perfect.  Except for the part where he told her that he didn't trust her.  Other than that, it was one of her better nights.  Buffy sighed as she now stood in front of the door, sliding the key into the lock.  Once she stepped inside the house, she dropped the keys onto the small table next to the coat rack before she spoke.

"Hey guys.  I'm home.  And I've got dinner."  Buffy looked down at the now grease stained bag in her hand.  "Well, it's edible anyway."  Tara's voice emanated from the living room.

"We're in here, Buffy."  Odd.  The television wasn't on and Dawn and Tara were suspiciously silent.  Actually, the house had been very quiet when she first walked in.  As she moved to the living room, she began to understand the reason for the silence.

"Ms. Kroger?"

"Hello, Ms. Summers."  Oh, God.  Did she have a meeting today with Social Services?  Buffy couldn't remember.  Sure, things had been hectic lately, with Spike and Doc, but Buffy was fairly sure that she didn't have a meeting today.  She'd been doing better with Dawn.  Ever since they lost Spike.  Ever since they realized that all they had were each other.  Buffy saw Tara sitting next to Dawn on the couch while Ms. Kroger sat in the armchair, notepad in hand.  This couldn't be happening.  Not now.

"Um, Ms. Kroger."  Buffy felt awkward asking the question but she had to know.  Mainly because she was certain now that there wasn't an appointment for today.  "Were we supposed to meet today?  Because I don't remember…"  The social worker interrupted Buffy's tirade.

"It's okay, Ms. Summers.  Your memory's fine.  This is what, we at Social Services like to call, a surprise visit."  Oh, that was just perfect.  Didn't this lady know you never surprise a Slayer?  She should have tossed her out the window when she had the chance instead of 'possessing' her coffee mug when Buffy had her case of invisibility.  But, she knew better.  That would be wrong.  But it would have felt so good.  Buffy shook the thought from her head, placing the Doublemeat bag onto the coffee table before taking a seat next to Dawn.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you, but…"  Another interruption.

"But you were at work.  Then you went to get dinner for your sister and your friend."  Odd.  Was she pleased?  That sure sounded like approval in her voice.  "Don't worry, Ms. Summers.  This won't take long.  I've seen all that I've needed to already."  Buffy eyed the social worker curiously while Dawn moved closer to her sister.  "You know, I was sure that I'd have to recommend that Dawn be placed in a foster home when I first met you.  But now, it seems that I was wrong."  Buffy smiled at the words.  So, she was making a difference.

"Um, does that mean that we're okay?"  Ms. Kroger looked over to Tara, smiling at the near innocence in her question.

"You're okay, miss.  Dawn's grades have been improving.  Ms. Summers is bringing in a steady income and acting like a mother that her sister needs.  Plus, it seems like your presence here is helpful to these two based on how Dawn behaves around you.  So, yes.  I'd say you're okay."  The three women smiled at one another upon hearing Ms. Kroger's words.  "But, don't take this to mean that you're out of the woods.  It's only been a few months.  Social Services need considerably more time before making a final decision."

"Oh."  Dawn sulked as Buffy gently caressed her sister's arm.  Ms. Kroger, sensing the sudden change in mood, decided to reassure the group.

"But, if you keep going the way you are now, I don't see why Dawn should have to be placed in foster care."  She looked at Buffy as she spoke.  "You're doing a commendable job, Ms. Summers.  More than most people are willing to do."  Buffy smiled at the once hated social worker.

"Thank you, Ms. Kroger."  The social worker nodded before she rose from the armchair.

"Well, I should leave you three to your dinner before it gets cold."  Dawn giggled slightly as the women joined Ms. Kroger on her feet.  "And I promise.  Next time, the visit will be scheduled."  Buffy led Ms. Kroger to the front door, a playful smile on her face.

"Thanks ever so."  Buffy smirked as the words came out of her mouth.  There was no denying it.  Spike was in her blood.  Thing was, she didn't mind one bit.

Dinner was relatively uneventful.  Sure, it was lighthearted, but it was evident that Buffy was still depressed.  It had been about two weeks since Giles and Spike had left for England.  It had been about two weeks since she spoke to them.  To Spike.  He must have been too busy, what with him trying to piece his life together.  Nothing major there.  Buffy sighed as she took popped a french fry into her mouth.  Maybe she should call later, just to check in.  It couldn't hurt, right?

"So, how was work today, Buffy?"

"Hmm.  What?"  Dawn smiled at her sister.  Buffy was always somewhere else nowadays whenever she or Tara tried to talk to her.  Dawn knew what was on her mind.  The same thing that was on hers.  As much as she hated to admit it, she missed Spike.  Maybe more than Buffy.  Okay, that wasn't possible.  While Dawn had only lost a friend, Buffy had lost her friend and ex-lover.  Why Buffy ever pushed him away, she'd never know.  But, things could be different now.  He was back from the dead.  There was a second chance.  Not many of those in life.  You had to grab them and make the most of them.

"Work?  How was it?"  Buffy smiled at her sister as she spoke.

"Oh, you know.  The usual."  Tara chimed in.

"So, you slayed vampires at the bank?"  Buffy grinned at Tara as she tossed the wadded straw wrapper at her playfully.

"Not that usual.  The usual I had in mind was the boring and mundane."  Tara smiled as she flicked the errant paper wad at Dawn.

"Hey!  What did I do?"

"Nothing.  That's what makes it evil."  Tara had a playful malevolence to her voice as she tried to imitate the dialect of one of those old black and white evil masterminds.  The same mastermind that always spilled their plans to the hero so the hero could foil him before the movie ended.  Dawn smirked at Tara as she reached for one of Buffy's fries for ammunition.  However, Buffy's hand moved faster, catching Dawn's wrist.

"Uh uh.  Those are mine."

"But I finished mine."  Buffy smiled at Dawn.

"So, you're gonna waste mine just to toss at Tara?"

"Well, you started this."

"No, I didn't."  Tara spoke, a hint of laughter in her voice now.

"Actually, you did.  If you didn't throw that wrapper at me, none of this would have happened."  Buffy's eyes gazed at Tara before they returned to the fry in her fingers.

"Well, in that case."  Whap.  Tara's smile faded as the french fry bounced off her nose and into her empty glass.  "I guess it's fitting that I end it."  Dawn giggled as the fry settled at the bottom of the glass.

"Two points!"  The group started to laugh at Dawn's observation.  It was a rather nice chain of events.  Even for a Slayer.  As the laughter subsided, Buffy spoke.

"So, what do you guys want to do tonight?"  Tara spoke as she began placing her food wrappers into the paper bag.

"Um, Xander called earlier.  Said that he and Anya were stopping by with the, uh, the outfits."  Buffy looked up at Tara as she heard the words.

"No."  Please oh please oh please let it not be true.  "When you say 'outfits'?"  Dawn nodded as she spoke.

"Uh huh.  Anya's finally picked out the bridesmaids' dresses."  Buffy sighed, wondering if there was a chance that she'd be wearing something made of silk, of polyester.  Even cotton would be fine.  Anything but larvae.  "But they're gonna stop off at the hospital first.  Xander needs to pick up some pain medication."  

Tara frowned at the thought of Xander still being in pain.  When she had first seen him at the hospital, she couldn't believe that one person could be capable of so much evil.  She was grateful that she'd never met this Doc person.  And she was even more grateful when Buffy told the group that Spike had killed him.  One less evil in the world might not make that much of a difference, but it was nice to think it did.  Tara spoke once again, trying to lighten the mood.

"So, you think Anya will go with the pink satin number or the burlap covered in mucus?"  Buffy and Dawn chimed in almost simultaneously, a hint of frustration in their voices.

"Burlap."  The sisters looked at each other before they smiled at one another.  Buffy spoke as Tara chuckled slightly.

"Well, let's get this all cleaned up before they show up.  Wouldn't want Anya to think we're filthy animals, leaving trash all over the place."  Dawn responded, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Yeah.  Last thing we'd want is for our dresses to throw up at the sight of our garbage."  Buffy smirked as she got up, gathering up her errant wrappers into the paper bag Tara handed to her.

"With Anya, you never know, Dawnie.  You never know."

"So, tell me again?  Why Indian?"  Spike prodded at his curry chicken with a fork, the greenish yellow color doing nothing for his palette.  Giles grabbed another mouthful of rice and dhal, savoring the taste.  Being in America had its drawbacks.  For one, not many Indian cuisine restaurants were located in Sunnydale.  You were lucky if you could find a decent Thai restaurant.  However, a coffeehouse.  No problem.  You couldn't walk a block without running into one.  Giles answered Spike's question as soon as he was able to talk.

"My God.  You're a vampire."

"Oi.  Not sure what I am."  Giles shook his head, a smile on his face.

"Fine.  Were a vampire.  And you're actually picky about what you eat?"  Spike had to smirk at the Watcher's observation.  There was a time when he was eating puppies that Drusilla had found him.  He had no choice but to eat.  He was crippled.  Helpless.  And Buffy was the one that hurt him.  Once again, doubt floated to the surface.  If he weren't careful, he'd have to go see a shrink.  All these damn insecurities were starting to irritate the hell out of him.

"Yeah.  At least my food didn't look like a bloody infection at the time."  Spike thought about his comment before he spoke again.  "Well, not this infected anyway."  Giles softly chuckled as he had another helping of rice.

"Alright.  Tell you what.  Next time you pick where we eat."  Spike smiled at the offer.  He knew exactly where they'd eat next.  "Probably be a place that serves fish and chips, no doubt."  Okay, scratch that idea.  Spike finally relented as he tore off a hunk of meat from the breast with the fork, holding it up to his mouth.  Unfortunately, doubt began to overcome him again.  "For God's sake.  Just eat the damn thing."  Spike eyed Giles, noting the hint of anger in his voice.  After all Giles had done for him, it seemed a minor price to pay, eating the food in front of him.

"Oh, what the hell.  Cheers, mate."  Spike sighed as he placed the morsel of meat into his mouth.  As he chewed, the flavor expanded in his mouth.  "Hmm, not bad."  He noted that Giles was grinning now, taking a sip of beer.  They'd have to be careful.  It wouldn't bode well, showing up plastered for the Council.  Then again, it could be fun.

"Damn right it's not bad.  It's bloody brilliant."  Spike softly chuckled, watching Giles take another handful from his plate.  The man couldn't hold his liquor worth a damn.  Or, maybe this was how he really behaved.  After all, the man was a Ripper once.  "You should really do away with the silverware though, if you want the whole experience."  Spike considered him for a second before putting the fork down.

"Already come this far.  Might as well go all out."  Spike furiously grabbed a handful of rice and lentils, tossing the mixture into his mouth.  Giles laughed loudly, the attendants in the restaurant turning toward the commotion.  Giles meekly apologized with an awkward look as Spike grabbed another handful.

"You know, you can eat civilly with your hands."

"Yeah, and I could try to learn ballet.  But it ain't gonna happen."  Giles looked at him quizzically, before Spike spoke again.  "And besides, we're celebrating.  Remember?  Civil and celebrating don't go hand in hand, Rupert."  Giles shot him a smirk as he took another swig from his bottle.

"What the hell."  Giles took another swig as he watched Spike devour the food on his plate.

Xander stood at the counter of the pharmacy, waiting for the pharmacist, Phil, to return with his much needed medication.  He hated the fact that he still needed them to sleep, but his ribs were still bothering him.  He wondered how Giles was doing.  "Probably worse than me.  He's like a relic.  There's no way he's not feeling the pain."  Then again, Giles didn't have a fiancée with a libido in constant overdrive.  He had promised himself that he'd abstain from sex.  Too bad he was such a bad liar.  He never knew what hit him that night he was released from the hospital.  Xander smiled at the memory, though.  It was a pretty good night.  As the thought fluttered through his mind, Phil interrupted him.

"Here you go, pal.  Careful with those.  That's a pretty powerful scrip you got there."  Xander nodded at the pharmacist as he began to move to find Anya.

"Thanks for the concern, but I'm feeling better."  It wasn't entirely a lie.  He was feeling better.  And he still had two more refills on the medication, so he was still okay there.  No chance of him becoming addicted.  Well, he was addicted to sex.  That didn't necessarily mean that he'd be addicted to anything else.  Did it?

"Hey, Xander.  Did you get the pills?"  Xander walked over to his girlfriend, placing his arm about her shoulder.  He showed her the bottle with his other hand.

"Got 'em right here."

"Good.  We should get going before Roy closes the shop.  I'd like to see how the gowns look on the bridesmaids."  Xander gently chuckled.

"What are you worried about?  I thought the dresses looked fine."  Anya huffed as she spoke.

"What are you talking about?  There's not even a trace of Melorian cocoons on them.  It's going to be horrible.  I can feel it."  Xander tried to comfort her, but she didn't give him the chance.  "This is how it starts.  First the dresses are ruined.  Then the caterers don't prepare enough toad eyes.  Then we have squabbling between your folks and mine.  This wedding is doomed.  Doomed!"

"An!"  She snapped out of her tirade, finally seeing that Xander was smiling at her.  "You're worrying too much.  We messed up the first time."  He gently squeezed her shoulder as he spoke.  "But this time, we're getting married.  No ifs, ands, or buts."  Anya returned Xander's smile.

"You mean it?"

"Course I do, babe."  He really did.  The first time, uncertainty and doubt stepped in, making Xander call off the first wedding.  However, seeing Buffy in the cemetery that night, holding Spike in her arms as she lost him, made Xander realize that time was too precious to waste.  He wouldn't waste any more time.  He'd spend the rest of his time with the woman standing next to him.  Xander looked down at Anya, a smile playing across his face.  As he leaned in to kiss her, they were interrupted by a man in a white coat.

"Excuse me.  Are you friends of Willow Rosenberg?"  They both looked at the man curiously, deducing that he was a doctor based on his nametag.  Wondering what he was trying to get at, Xander spoke.

"That's right.  What's wrong?"  Xander felt somewhat guilty.  With what had gone down with Doc, the group hadn't really thought of visiting Willow like they usually did.  He'd have to make time, once he healed up.  It was only right.  She was still his best friend.  Before the doctor could respond, Anya extended her hand, the doctor surprised to see the offer.  He shook her hand as Anya spoke.

"So, what do you have to tell us about Willow, Dr. Barnes?"  The doctor took a deep breath before he spoke.

"I think you should come with me."  Xander and Anya looked at each other, wondering what was wrong.  Something had to be wrong, based on the tone of the doctor's voice.  They both nodded agreement as they followed Dr. Barnes down the hallway.

"You should call him."  Buffy looked at her sister sitting on the counter while Tara helped her with the dishes.

"Hmm.  What's that, Dawnie?"

"Call him.  He won't mind."  Buffy knew whom she meant.  Who else could she possibly be talking about?

"I think Dawn's right.  I know I'd be glad to talk to someone that I haven't spoken to in a long time.  Say, two weeks?"  She couldn't believe it.  They were ganging up on her.  A Slayer.  And they were winning.  Buffy sighed as she passed a clean yet damp plate to Tara to dry.

"Look, even if I did call Giles…"  That ought to show them that she wasn't thinking about him.  "…it's like almost three in the morning.  I'm pretty sure they're sleeping."  Dawn laughed as she spoke.

"Right.  Spike and Giles.  Together.  Acting like a couple of well behaved gentlemen."  Buffy shuddered at the thought.  Why hadn't that thought even occurred to her before?  After all, Giles was almost like Spike.  Well, without the supernatural powers.  That was clearly evident when she found out he had slept with her mom when they thought they were teenagers.  Twice.

"Well, I know Giles."  A little too well, actually.  "And he won't let Spike get into any mischief."  Buffy sounded like she almost believed herself.  She passed Tara the last plate as she turned to Dawn.

"Yeah.  I'm sure.  They're probably all tucked in their beds, waiting for Mr. Sandman."  Tara giggled at Dawn's musing.  Buffy, on the other hand, didn't.  She was now worried about what trouble those two men were getting into.

"They might not be sleeping.  But I'm sure they're at home, watching one of those boring British comedies that Giles finds so amusing."  Dawn smirked at her as Tara moved to the counter, grabbing a paper towel to dry her hands.  She held one out to Buffy, who gratefully accepted.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"Call him.  My money's on they're out getting wasted."

"Dawn!"  Tara laughed with Dawn even though they knew that the image was troubling Buffy.  Her Watcher with her ex.  Who knew what they could be talking about?  Probably Buffy, no doubt.  Buffy sighed as she tossed the paper towel into the garbage bin.  "Fine.  But if I wake them up, you're the one that's explaining why I called."  Dawn nodded at her sister, a smile on her face.  As long as she got to talk to Spike, it was worth it.  Buffy moved toward the phone, about to pick up the receiver, when it rang.  Startled by the timing, Buffy reluctantly picked it up.  Who knows?  It might be Giles on the other end.  Or Spike.  "Hello?"  It was neither.

"Buffy?"  Xander's voice sounded desperate, almost frantic.

"What is it, Xander?"  He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"You have to come down to the hospital.  Now."  Seriousness now tinted Buffy's voice as she spoke.

"Slow down, Xander.  Just tell me what's going on."

"It's Willow."  Buffy held her breath, unsure of what she should feel.  She hadn't been able to visit her since the events with Spike transpired.  And now.  If something bad had happened to her.  Without giving Buffy the chance to say goodbye.

"Is she…?"  Buffy didn't want to finish her thought as Dawn and Tara began to piece together the conversation, uncertainty covering them as they listened on.  Xander considered Buffy's words before he spoke again.

"No.  She's not dead."  Frustration now seeped into her voice.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Buffy."  A moment of silence before Xander spoke again.  "Willow's awake."  Dawn and Tara were startled by the sound of the phone resonating off the tile while Buffy braced herself against the wall, unsure of the words that had just been spoken to her.

To be continued 


	10. Ramifications

Title:  Ramifications

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Language)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to Graduation Day II, This Year's Girl, Bargaining, After Life, All the Way, Once More, With Feeling, and Tabula Rasa.

Summary:  Tenth part of Falling into You series.

Status:  Finished (Part X of ?)

"Buffy, what's wrong?"  Tara moved over to Buffy while Dawn remained on the counter, looking on, unsure of the recent events that had just transpired.  Tara's voice stirred Buffy from her initial shock, her eyes falling to the floor, where the phone now lay.  She could still make out Xander's voice, although not that well.  He was screaming now based on the decibel level being emitted from the speaker.  Buffy bent over slowly, moving the phone back to her ear.

"Buffy!  Buffy!  Are you there?!?"

"I'm here, Xander."  Buffy looked at Tara, then at Dawn, reassuring them with a meek smile.  However, she felt the opposite of sure upon hearing Xander's news.  Willow was awake.  But which Willow?  The sweet, innocent Willow that had been her best friend or the evil, malevolent Willow that killed Amy.  That hurt Dawn.  That took Spike away from her.  Buffy took a deep breath before she spoke again.  "How is she, Xan?"  Xander's voice returned to a more composed, calm state upon hearing her voice.

"I'm not sure.  The doctors are still running some tests on her.  They wanna make sure that everything's okay upstairs."  Buffy nodded at the phone, knowing that Xander wouldn't be able to see her understanding.

"Did you see her?"

"Just through the door."  Xander sighed before he spoke again.  "What a week, huh?"  Buffy gently laughed, a hint of sorrow in her voice.

"Tell me about it.  So, have the doctors said when we can see her?"  Buffy needed to see her.  To make sure everything was okay.  To make sure that Willow was okay.  To make sure that Willow was still Willow.  To stop her if she wasn't.  Xander's voice stirred her from her thoughts.

"Should take a few minutes before we can go in."

"Okay.  We should be there by then."  Buffy didn't want to say the words, but she had to.  "Be careful, okay?  Don't do anything until we get there."  Xander's voice was now tinted with sorrow and understanding.

"Yeah.  No prob.  An and I will be in the waiting room."

"Okay."  And with that, Buffy replaced the receiver back into the cradle.  Then she looked at the two women in front of her.  "Guys.  Get your coats.  We're going to the hospital."

Spike hated admitting to himself that he had an okay night with the Watcher.  Maybe it was the fact that he finally got out of that damn flat that made the curry go down more pleasantly.  Or maybe it was that he realized that he and Giles had a lot in common.  God, did he just think that?  A Watcher having something in common with a faux vampire?  Now that was an oddity.  But they did have things in common.  Their love of music.  Their affinity for a good drink.  Their dislike of American football.  Everyone knew that the only real football was the one where the ball actually looked like a bloody ball.  But their commonalities didn't end there.  There was also a certain Slayer.  Buffy.  As they neared the flat, Giles spoke.

"Think we'll sober up before our meeting with Quentin?"  Spike looked at him, a smirk on his face.

"Don't know, mate.  But I know one thing."  Giles didn't look at him as he entered the lobby, Spike following close behind him as they made their way to the elevator.

"And what's that?"

"Should be an eventful day."  Giles chuckled as they waited for the elevator, his hand pressed against the wall for balance.  It was evident that the Watcher had imbibed more than he should of.  That's not to say he was thoroughly pissed.  He was holding it together just fine.  But the headache in the morning?   Spike didn't envy him.  Funny thing, was, Spike didn't feel plastered at all.  In fact, he felt fine.

"Right.  After all, you get your answers that Doc hinted at.  To tell the truth, I'm rather curious myself."

"Is that right?"  Giles nodded, a hint of inebriation in his eyes.

"Of course.  I mean, one moment you're dead.  The next you're in London.  Call me crazy, but I can't make the connection, lad."  Spike eyed him, a thought suddenly emblazoning itself in his head.  He knew that he probably shouldn't ask.  What, with Giles not entirely in control of all his faculties.  But he had to know.

"How did it happen?"  The bell for the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open.  Giles made his way into the car, Spike following.  He repeated his question, thinking the Watcher didn't hear his first inquiry.  "Rupert.  How did it happen?"

"How did what happen?"  A hint of frustration tinted Spike's voice.

"Don't be so dense.  You know what I mean."  Giles' smile was an awkward one.  Spike knew that it was probably uncomfortable to talk about.  But, why should it?  It wasn't like they gave a damn for him.  But, that wasn't entirely true, now was it?  He was here, in London.  With Buffy's Watcher.  While back in Sunnydale, a man was keeping his promise to look after Buffy.  Even though Spike could clearly recollect that Xander hated him with a passion.  Maybe he was wrong?  Maybe they did care for him?  Before Spike could ponder the thought any further, Giles spoke.

"Are you sure you want to know like this?"  Spike eyed him suspiciously, Giles catching the look.  "I mean, wouldn't it be better if you recalled that event?  Might be more effective in your memory recall."

"Thanks for the kid gloves, Rupert.  But I think I'll be able to handle it either way."  Spike grinned at Giles, trying to put him at ease as well as himself.  "Now, spill."  Giles adjusted his glasses, his brow furrowed.  He opened his mouth, about to speak, but instead closed it once again.  How did one go about telling a person about their own death?  It's not like there was a handbook on situations like this.  Was there?  Giles looked down at his feet, not wanting to see Spike's expression as the words left his lips.

"Willow."  Nothing but silence coupled with the steel cable groaning against the pulley above them.  Giles decided to fathom a look, hoping that Spike was still of sound mind after hearing the name.  Willow.  How could someone so trusted become the object of discussion in Spike's death?  And why was it that Giles suddenly felt pity for the vampire now while uncertainty for his memories of Willow?

"Willow?  Keep hearing that name.  Buffy's best friend, right?"  Giles expected Spike to be furious, to be spiteful, to be violent.  So, it came as a genuine surprise when Spike chuckled.  Giles looked at him, puzzlement encompassing him.  "Musta done something to tick that bird off."

"Hmm, yes.  I mean, no."  Giles sighed before he continued, still a little shaken at Spike's reaction.  "Are you sure you want to hear the details?  They do get rather unseemly."  Spike shook his head, a small smile playing across his face.

"S'alright.  Just wanted to see if you were still being on the level with me."  Giles was about to protest the accusation before Spike waved him off.  "After all, you're a part of the Council.  This could all be some play, eh?"  Spike could see that Giles was still having trouble comprehending the point he was trying to get across.  Might as well go the direct route.  "Tell me the truth, Giles.  You were in my position, you'd be suspicious of blokes that make their living killing your kind, right?"  Giles had to nod at Spike's perceptiveness.  Spike hit it right on the head.

"I'd probably grow eyes in the back of my head."  Spike smirked at the Watcher.

"Get back to you if I find out later I can."

"Right."  The bell dinged once again, the doors to the car sliding open once again.  Giles motioned to Spike to leave the car first, which he did without any qualms.  Once they stood in the hallway, Giles fumbling for his keys, he spoke.  "What's say we try and salvage what sleep we can before our meeting tomorrow?"  Spike nodded.

"All right, mate."  Giles worked the lock open, both men entering the flat once again.  However, Spike was too wired to sleep.  He was so close to the answers that had eluded him that he wished there was some way for time to speed up.  But he knew that wasn't possible.  Well, not without the use of some mystical proponent.  Spike knew one thing for certain.  It was going to be a long night.

Buffy could see Xander and Anya through the glass doors of the hospital, Xander pacing while Anya was seated in one of those hard plastic chairs that were molded for the back of a four year old infant, her eyes following Xander as he moved back and forth, no words between them.  Buffy walked into the hospital, the automated glass doors separating as if by magic.  She didn't know how they did that.  Had to be magic.  Dawn and Tara were on either side of her, both unsure of what to feel at this moment.  Tara in particular.  The sound of metal scraping against rubber caught Xander's attention, his gaze moving to the doors.  He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the group entering.

"Hey guys."  Buffy spoke.

"Hey."  Right now, there were no words.  Not for what was happening right now.  Buffy knew that Willow would eventually get up.  After all, Faith did.  And Willow was nowhere close to battered as Faith was.  At least physically.  Mentally, one could only fathom a guess.  Tara disrupted the silence, her inquisitiveness getting the better of her.

"How is she?"  Xander turned to Tara as Dawn sat down next to Anya.  Dawn could see that Anya was having a hard time at it.  She was so close to marrying the man she loved.  But now, with Willow awakening, the future was very uncertain.  After all, what do you do with a friend that tried to bring on the end of the world?  Dawn gently rested her head against Anya's shoulder, the nonverbal gesture showing Anya that she wasn't the only one that was doubtful of what to do.  Anya smiled back at Dawn as Xander spoke to Buffy and Tara.

"The doctors are done with her.  Say she has to stay here a few more days before she can be released.  But she's okay for visitors now."  Another moment of silence between friends.  It was inevitable.  They had to see her.  They had to be sure.  If it was Willow, which one was it?  Their once trusted companion?  Or their newly formed nemesis?  Buffy sighed a faint, wavering sigh.

"Well, we should go and see her then."  She turned back to Anya and Dawn.  If Willow did indeed still hold them all in contempt and still had access to her power, there was no reason to bring Dawn into the crossfire.  "Anya, could you stay here with Dawnie while we check in on Willow?"  Anya nodded, understanding Buffy's gesture.  Dawn, on the other hand, did not.

"Wait.  I want to see her too."

"No, Dawn.  Not until we're sure it's safe."

"But…"

"No."  Buffy walked over to her sister while Tara and Xander stayed back, looking at the event unfolding in front of them.  They too were feeling a wave a trepidation washing over them.  Their Willow.  Possibly a threat?  They didn't think it at first.  But that had almost cost Dawn her life.  And it had cost Amy and Spike theirs.  However, Spike was now back among the living.  But Amy.  Amy remained a constant reminder.  A reminder they'd never forget.  "Look, we have to make sure, Dawnie.  Don't fight me on this one.  Please."  Dawn could see the sincerity in her sister's eyes.  The fear.  Dawn finally nodded agreement, Buffy gently squeezing her little sister's hand before moving back to Xander and Tara.  Before they could move down the hall, Anya called out to them.

"It wasn't Willow that night."  The group turned back, Xander questioning his fiancée.

"What do you mean, An?"

"When Willow opened the gate.  It wasn't really her.  I mean, it was her, but it wasn't."

"Honey, we all saw her."  Anya shook her head.  She hated human emotions at this moment. They made everything so much harder to deal with.  Especially the bad ones.

"It wasn't her.  Her eyes."  Throughout the midst of that night in the cemetery, energy swirling about uncontrollably, Anya noted that one observation.  Willow's eyes were different.  They were darker than the night, a hint of malcontent and hatred evident behind those once warm eyes.  "Something, or someone, was controlling her that night.  I'm telling you, don't accuse her of things she's not responsible for."  It was weird, defending Willow.  The woman that once took up a large part of Xander's heart.  But, after that night, no one would talk about what had transpired.  The general consensus was that things were better left unsaid.  Couple that with the newfound knowledge that Buffy had indeed been in love with Spike and had lost him, it was better for all if the incident never be mentioned again.  A final plea from Anya.  "Please, just consider what I'm saying."  Before Buffy could voice her concern, Tara spoke.

"Okay.  We'll be careful with her."  Anya smiled at Tara, Dawn gently squeezing Anya's hand.  Buffy looked at Tara, her eyes telling Buffy all she needed to know.  It was better to go in as friends instead of flinging accusations.  With that, Buffy, Xander and Tara made their way to Willow's room while Anya sat with Dawn in the waiting room, both worrying about the events that were about to transpire in the next few minutes.

She looked normal, lying in the bed, her eyes closed.  The white sheet contrasted sharply with the fiery red hair as she lay there.  At first, they thought she was sleeping, but the doctor had given them the okay to go in and check in on their friend.  In fact, the doctor had told her that her friends were just outside, waiting to see her.  Maybe that's why her eyes were closed.  She didn't want to see them.  Maybe she was ashamed of what she did.  Or maybe she still hated them.  With a deep breath, Buffy slowly pushed the door open, Xander and Tara following right behind.

The groan of the hinges alerted Willow, her eyes flying open.  So, she wasn't sleeping.  The three friends stood at the doorway, hesitant of what to do.  Willow stared back in equal confusion.  After a moment, Buffy made her way closer to Willow, standing at the foot of the bed, allowing enough space between them to not pose a threat.  A deep breath and she spoke.  "Hey."  Willow looked at her, noting the small smile now on Buffy's face.

"Hey."  Tara and Xander stayed back, letting the two former best friends feel out the situation before entering the conversation.  Willow could see the hesitation in the two as they hovered behind Buffy.  Willow looked at both of them, gently smiling at them as she looked more intently at Tara.  God, how she missed her.  "Hey guys."  Tara spoke.

"Hi, Will."  Tara moved closer to the bed, standing near to Buffy's right side while Xander followed suit, moving to Buffy's left.  "How you feeling?"

"A little groggy.  But I guess that's what four months of sleep does to a person, huh?"  A small chuckle from Willow, feeling the awkwardness in the air.  There was a time when these four could talk for hours on end about nothing in particular.  Now, they were having trouble with simple pleasantries.  Xander spoke.

"So, the doc toldja, huh?"  Willow nodded, not ready to discuss why they were really here.  After all, they couldn't still care for her.  Not after what she had done.  Buffy, seeing the worrisome look on Willow's face, decided to move the conversation to more pleasant situations.

"Um, have the doctors told you when you can come home?"  Home.  That sounded so odd, hearing those words coming from Buffy's lips.  She still regarded Willow as a friend.  Or maybe she was seeing too much into Buffy's question.

"They're waiting on my cat scan.  Once they get that and there's no evidence of head trauma, I'm free to go."  Willow could see the optimism in her friends' eyes mingled with uncertainty.  They still cared for her.  But there was the incident still looming over them like a harbinger.  Silence enveloped the room once again, each individual unsure of where to go from here.  Buffy, her caution now getting the best of her, had to ask.

"Will?"

"Yeah, Buffy?"

"How much do you remember?"  Willow looked at her for a moment, trying to feign innocence.  But she knew that she had to tell them.  If there was ever a chance of having what they once had.  She had to tell them.

"All of it."  Her head slightly dropped, her gaze now on the sheet spread over her legs.  Before Buffy could respond, Willow continued, looking at no one in particular.  "I can't believe I lost my way.  I almost…"  The sorrow was evident in her voice as she tried to continue on, but the words didn't come.  The images in her mind engulfed her, making it hard to remain coherent.  "Amy.  Dawn.  I killed them."  Tara interrupted Willow's narrative.

"It wasn't you, sweetie.  It was the magic.  It has that effect on people that…"  She didn't realize what she was saying until it was too late.  Willow completed Tara's thought.

"Abuse it?"  Willow turned away from the group standing in front of her.  They weren't here because they cared.  They were here to blame her again.  To make her feel insignificant once again.  Buffy spoke, a hint of concern in her voice upon seeing Willow's mood change.

"That's not what she said, Willow."

"But that's what she meant.  That's what you all think."  Her voice was hushed, but the anger was evident in her inflection.  Without hesitation, Buffy answered.

"That's right."  Willow looked up again, not believing the words that had just come from Buffy's mouth.  But there they were.  "You abused your magic, Willow.  People are dead because of you."  The reality of Buffy's words began to sink in, Willow speaking, her voice wavering.

"You don't think I know that?  Because I do.  I was there, Buffy.  I remember seeing Amy dying in front of me.  I remember Drusilla slitting Dawn's throat.  And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it!"  Xander interrupted, unsure of Willow's words.

"What do you mean you couldn't do anything about it?  You did those things, Will."  Willow's gaze now shifted to Xander, her once best friend.  He seemed almost like a stranger standing in front of her.  This Alexander Harris was definitely different from the Alexander Harris she knew earlier.  Before Buffy.

"You think I'd actually do those things?!?"  Buffy and Xander looked on as their friend began to lose her composure.  Tara was beginning to piece the picture that Willow was trying to illustrate with her incoherent thoughts.  "I didn't want Amy or Dawn to die…"

"But the magic began controlling you."  Willow turned her attention to Tara, seeing only sadness and sympathy in her eyes.  Tara understood what Willow was going through.  If anyone would, it would be Tara.  After all, she had a working knowledge of magic.  And the repercussions of using too much.  Willow's head slumped slightly, her voice once again a whisper.

"Yeah."  She took a deep sigh before she continued.  "I could see what was happening around me, but I wasn't in control of my body, you know?  It was like someone else was flipping the switches, and I was along for the ride."  Buffy nodded, finally understanding what Willow had really gone through.  Anya was right, after all.  It wasn't really Willow that night.  But she knew what she had done.  That couldn't be good.  Could it?  Buffy turned to Xander, seeing that he comprehended Willow's words as well.  Buffy had to know.  She needed the answer to the question that plagued her ever since Willow fell into her coma.

"But, why?  Why would you do something like that, Will?"

"To prove that I mattered."  Buffy shook her head, unsure of what Willow was trying to convey.  She looked at Xander.  "You had your wedding to Anya."  Her gaze fell to Buffy next.  "You had Dawn to take care of as well as keep Sunnydale safe."  Finally, her eyes stopped on Tara.  "And you had me.  Until you left me."  Tara, upset by the generalization, voiced her thoughts.

"I had no choice, Willow.  You were using your magic for your own gains."  She frowned as she continued.  "You made me forget we had a fight.  You made Buffy forget that she was pulled from Heaven and, instead, made us all forget who we were."  Willow jumped in, seeing that all the blame was being placed on her now.

"Yeah.  I was the only one that wanted Buffy back."  She looked at Xander and Tara, avoiding Buffy's gaze.  "You both wanted her back as much as I did.  But I did something about it.  I'm the one that cared enough to do something about it."  Buffy felt sick to her stomach, upon hearing those words coming from Willow's mouth.

"No, if you cared, you would have let me rest."  Willow turned her gaze to Buffy, realizing that she had let her anger get the better of her once again.  The fierceness in her eyes dissipated as she saw Buffy near the brink of tears.  "I was finish.  I was done.  And the only one that seemed to understand that was Spike."  Buffy smirked at the realization.  Even in death, Spike loved her.  "You were greedy."  Buffy's eyes moved to Tara and Xander as she continued.  "You all were."  The two friends remained silent as Buffy spoke.  "But I forgave you."  Her gaze moved back to Willow, a hint of sincerity and kindness in her voice.  "Because that's what friends do."  Willow continued looking at Buffy, the weight of her words finally sinking in.

"But I don't deserve to be forgiven.  I've killed."

"It wasn't you, Willow.  It was the magic."

"But Amy.  Dawn…"  Buffy decided to give Willow the bad news as well as the good.

"You're right.  Amy's dead.  There's no denying that."  Willow hung her head in shame as Buffy spoke.  "But Dawn's alive."

"What?"  Willow's voice was mixed with both happiness and fear.  She was glad that Dawn was still alive.  But how?  Drusilla had cut her throat open.  She died in Spike's arms while Willow tried to open the gate.  Xander spoke, verifying Buffy's statement.

"Yeah, she's in the waiting room with Anya."

"Why aren't they in here?"  There was no reason to tell her the truth.  Not when things were already so fragile as they were.  Tara concealed their fears.

"The doctors said that we shouldn't overcrowd the room.  Not sure how you'd react."

"Oh."  Willow looked disappointed upon hearing the news.  She wanted to see Dawn.  She wanted to apologize to her, even though she didn't deserve retribution.  Buffy saw the look of dismay on her face, knowing exactly what was going through her best friend's head.

"She'll pop in later, once we're done.  Okay?"  Willow looked back at Buffy, noting the sincere smile on Buffy's face.  She returned it in kind.

"Okay."  As her mind drifted back to that fateful night in the cemetery by the mention of Dawn, Willow's fingers instinctively moved to the crook of her neck, tracing against the skin.  That's when she felt it.  Two small deposits of scar tissue.  If she were to look in a mirror, she'd be able to see the slight discoloration between the two marks and the rest of the skin surrounding the area.  Willow spoke once again, a hint of shame and sorrow in her voice.  "Spike's dead, isn't he?"  Buffy looked at Tara and Xander, a hint of confusion on their faces.  How could they possibly explain Spike's situation without disrupting Willow's fragile psyche?  Xander went for the tried and true method.  He made a joke.

"Well, he's been dead for a while, Will."

"That's not what I meant."  From the tone of her voice, she was serious.  "I mean, he wasn't really a part of the group…"  Buffy looked down, the truth in Willow's words wounding her.  "…but he was okay.  I mean, he saved the world, right?"  Buffy nodded at Willow, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.  Willow was telling the truth.  She remembered everything that transpired that night.  And she was feeling remorse.

"Yeah.  He did."  Buffy almost glowed as she answered Willow's query.

"God.  I'm the one that deserved to die."  Tara was about to interrupt Willow's train of thought, but Willow didn't give her the chance.  "Amy.  Spike.  Why do I deserve to live when they didn't?"  Tara finally got her say.

"But, Spike's alive."  Willow's eyes widened in amazement.  First Dawn.  Now Spike.

"H…how?"  Buffy gently chuckled, shaking her head.

"It's a long story.  One that he should tell you when he gets back from London."  Xander winced at the mention of Spike's supposed return.  He and Spike both knew that Spike was never coming back to Sunnydale.  Spike had all but told him so, that night in the hospital room after their incident with Doc.  Xander wondered if he should tell Buffy.  After all, he only promised Spike that he'd look after her.  He never promised that he'd keep the truth from her.  Before Xander could ponder the thought, Willow spoke.

"There's a London, now?"  Tara giggled.

"Yeah.  It's north of France, east of Ireland."  Willow looked at Tara before a small smile played on her lips.

"I know where it is.  But why is Spike there?"  Buffy spoke.

"We'll talk about that later.  Promise."  Buffy didn't want to open up the wound that was barely healing.  It had been only two weeks and she missed him so much that it hurt.  "But for right now, you should get some rest.  It's been a long night."  Willow nodded, noting that the subject about Spike wasn't a comfortable one for Buffy, so she let it go.  That's when she realized just how lucky she was.

"I can't believe it.  Things shouldn't be this way."  Xander was confused now.

"What way, Willster?"

"This.  Us.  I don't deserve this…this second chance."  The tears came as she tried to continue speaking.  "After all I've done…"  Tara moved to the side of the bed, gently cradling Willow into her arms as Willow began to sob louder into Tara's shoulder.  "I don't deserve your friendship."

"Deserve's got nothing to do with it."  Willow looked up, her vision blurred by tears.  Buffy spoke calmly yet sincerely.  "You're our friend.  Through thick and thin.  Don't ever forget that."  Willow gently smiled as Tara tightened her hold on Willow, pulling Willow closer to her.  Willow's eyes moved to Xander, seeing that he was near the verge of tears as well, moving to the other side of the bed, taking a seat next to Willow, his hand gently gripping Willow's.  She looked back to Buffy who was smiling as well.

"I won't forget.  Never again."  Buffy nodded as Willow's tears abated.

"Good.  Then let me go get Dawn and Anya.  I'm sure they'll be glad to see you too."  Willow nodded as Buffy moved out of the room.  She smiled slightly as she closed the door behind her.  Things were going to be rough for Willow in the upcoming weeks, but she'd be there for her friend.  She wouldn't let her friend down again.  "Never again."

Tara remained with Willow as the others finally left to their respective homes.  Xander was still feeling a bit under the weather with his ribs, so Anya decided it was time to take him home.  Buffy seconded that motion since it was a weeknight and Dawn had school the next day.  While no one really wanted to leave Willow, she ultimately understood.  At least she wasn't alone.  Because Tara was with her.

Willow sat back on the pillow while Tara sat in the chair next to her, both watching one of those mundane sitcoms.  The one with the friends in the coffee house.  If life were that simple, Sunnydale wouldn't exactly be the same.  Because even with the problems that came with the city, it was still better than the fiction that was now on the television.  Willow gently laughed at the thought, Tara turning to her.

"What's so funny?"  Tara didn't really understand since a commercial was on.  And it wasn't funny.

"Oh, nothing.  Just thinking."  Tara pulled her chair closer to the bed.  Closer to Willow.

"About what, sweetie?"

"About life."  Tara smiled at Willow, pulling her legs under her as she propped her hands under her chin.

"What about it?"

"Even with everything we've been through, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."  Willow's eyes moved to Tara, who was looking intently at her, absorbing every word she was saying.

"I know what you mean.  After living in Sunnydale, normal seems kinda…"  Willow finished her sentence.

"Boring?"  Tara's lips curved slightly upward.

"That's the word I'm looking for."  After sharing a gaze that lasted longer than either could recount, Willow spoke, her voice a whisper.

"You know, if you have somewhere you need to be, I'll understand."  Tara stretched her arm out toward Willow slowly, her hand gently squeezing Willow's arm.

"I know you would.  But, I think I'm where I should be."  Another shared smile between the once former lovers before the sitcom came back from the commercial break.  Tara turned her head back to the television, Willow still looking at her.  Tara's hand moved from Willow's arm, finding its way around her hand.  Willow gently squeezed back, her gaze also falling back onto the television, a hint of a smile on her face.  Willow was home.

Xander fell onto the bed rear first, a groan escaping his lips.  While the body vest started to annoy him, he was thankful for it during that moment.  Because if he wasn't wearing it, Xander was sure that his ribs would have all popped out of position.  He didn't mean to collapse onto the bed, but his injury coupled with his fatigue got the better of him.  And Anya's sex drive wasn't making things any easier.

As Anya walked into the bedroom, carrying a glass of water for him, Xander could tell from the look on her face that something was bothering her.  Upon taking the glass from her and placing in on the nightstand, he spoke.  "Something wrong, hon?"

"No, not really."  He knew that tone.  Something was definitely bothering her.  Xander pulled the medicine bottle from his pants pocket, snapping the lid off onto the bed.  As he shook out the mandatory capsules into his hand, he decided to call her on it.

"What's wrong, An?"  Before she could refute his claim, Xander continued.  "And don't say nothing, because I know that tone.  Something's bothering you."  Anya looked down at her fiancé, seeing that he had found her out.  As Xander popped the pills into his mouth, taking a generous helping of water to down them, Anya spoke.

"Are you going to call off the wedding again?"  Xander almost choked on the water as he heard the question.  A quick cough to clear his throat, and he looked up.

"What?"

"Are you going to call the wedding off?"

"I heard you the first time, An.  Why would you even think that?"

"Because things are different now."  Xander knew where she was going with this tirade.  "Because of Willow."

"What about Willow?"  Xander stood up, facing his bride to be.  He tried to alleviate the situation with some of his trademark humor.  "She can come to the wedding.  We'll find room somewhere."  It didn't work.

"This isn't funny, Xander.  Things are different."

"Why?"  Anya answered, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Because."  There was no combating that argument.  Well, with logic anyway.  Xander sighed, his hands moving to Anya's shoulders.  He looked at her, his voice now serious.

"Okay.  Things are different.  But this doesn't change anything."  Anya started to turn her head away, but Xander gently grabbed her chin with his hand, turning her gaze back to him.  "By this time next week, we're going to be Mr. and Mrs. Harris."  Anya gently smiled upon hearing his reassurance.  "Okay?"

"Okay."  Xander's hand moved from her chin, sliding down her side slowly.  Anya giggled as Xander spoke.

"So, how about giving me some of that good ol' loving?"  He pulled her closer to him, nuzzling his lips against her neck.  This produced another giggle from Anya.

"Hey, I thought you were still hurting?"

"Maybe.  But you know how to kiss it and make it better."  Xander's lips moved across Anya's cheek, trailing a kiss before hovering over hers.  "Tell me I'm wrong."  She answered him by placing her lips on his, gently pushing him back onto the bed.  As they fell onto the bed, Xander issued a small groan of pain, followed by moans of pleasure.

Spike lay in bed, his eyes wide open.  He couldn't sleep.  The anticipation was too overwhelming for him to even fathom sleep.  Giles, on the other hand.  Spike had to help the Watcher to his room before he collapsed onto the living room floor.  The mix of alcohol and fatigue didn't actually help Giles' physical health.  Spike grinned at the thought of Rupert in the morning.  He was going to be totally knackered.

He turned to his side, looking at the watch laying on the bedside stand.  Almost four.  The meeting was at noon, so Spike still had some time to get a sizable amount of rest.  But first, he had to get the excitement from his system.  It was almost like Christmas in a way.  Waiting for that moment when you tear into the wrapping paper to see what lies just beneath.  In Spike's case, what lay beneath would be his repressed memories.  Hopefully.

Spike sighed, swinging his legs out over the side of the bed.  What time was it in Sunnydale anyway?  Were they even up?  "Should be around eight there."  Spike slowly pushed his hands against the mattress, his body propelled into a standing position.  The pads of his feet softly planted against the floor, not wanting to wake Giles.  Not like he could, anyway.  The bloke was passed out.  Spike would have to check on him in the morning.  After all.  No Watcher, no admittance.

As Spike moved into the living room, he grabbed the phone, pulling it with him onto the couch as he slumped into the cushions.  He examined the black rotary phone for a while, wondering if this was a good idea.  He knew that he wasn't sure about her.  But everything in his being said that this was right.  She would be the only one that could possibly understand what he was going through.  Spike exhaled slowly before picking up the receiver.  As he cradled the receiver in the crook of his neck, his finger picked at the holes, turning the numbers out.

Tara had chosen to remain with Willow at the hospital while Xander and Anya headed home.  After all, Xander still wasn't up to snuff, what with his damaged ribs.  It was almost an hour until they decided to leave Willow and Tara alone.  Buffy had to admit; it was a bit like a catharsis.  It was almost like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders, seeing her friend awake and caring again.  But the nagging voice in her head kept on throwing up what ifs.  What if Willow was lying?  What if she was still addicted to the magic?  What if she still hated them all?  Buffy shrugged the thoughts away, Dawn walking into the house just ahead of her.

Dawn could see that her sister was emotionally drained.  First Spike, now Willow.  The life of a Slayer wasn't an easy one, that's for sure.  But, with a little sister around, the trouble could be passed on.  After all, two heads were better than one.  "Hey, Buffy.  You okay?"  Buffy looked at her sister as she hung up her coat.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dawnie.  Why?"

"It's just…you know.  With Willow."  She paused, thinking of the best way to phrase her thoughts.  "I know I'd be overwhelmed."  Buffy softly laughed, moving over to her sister and grabbing her in a gentle hug.

"Everything's going to be okay.  You wait and see."  Buffy pulled back slightly, her eyes locking with Dawn's.  "How are you doing?"  Dawn seemed confused by the concern in Buffy's voice.  "She was kinda responsible for what happened to you that night."  Dawn spoke, a hint of sorrow in her voice.

"Yeah, kinda.  But it was the magic.  We can't blame her for that."  Dawn sighed, memories of that cold night flooding her thoughts.  "Anyway, Spike's the one that paid for it."  Dawn looked back at her sister, seeing the pain evident on her face.  Buffy suffered the most when Spike died.  It was evident by the number of times Dawn heard her break down into tears when she went to bed during the summer.  Dawn wanted to comfort her sister, but knew better.  She couldn't possibly understand what Buffy was going through.

When Buffy had finally come to the realization of her feelings about Spike, he was taken from her.  Before she had the chance to tell him.  And now that he was back, she was still in the same predicament.  Because he didn't remember the past.  He didn't remember their time together.  Their history.  Only the twisted version that Doc had supplied him.  That's why Spike was in London now.  And that's why Buffy was hopeful.  If things worked out the way she thought they would, there was a chance.  A chance to tell him.  A chance to get back their lost time.

"Yeah, he did.  But he's back now."  Dawn smiled at her sister as she continued speaking.  "Things will get better."  Dawn nodded as Buffy smiled, gently squeezing her sister's hand.  "I'm gonna get ready for bed.  Don't stay up too late, okay?"

"Okay, Buffy."  As Buffy moved up the stairs toward the bathroom, the phone rang.  Dawn moved to the table, grabbing the receiver from the cradle.  "Hello?"  When Dawn heard the voice on the other end, Dawn waved frantically at Buffy, a smile spreading across her face.  As Buffy descended the stairs, her eyes still on her sister, Dawn spoke.  "I'm doing okay, Spike.  How are you?"  Buffy smiled upon hearing Dawn's words.

"I'm doing okay, sweet bit.  You sound good."  She did, at that.  It was almost like she enjoyed talking to him.  He had to admit, it felt good talking to Dawn again.  Almost like she was his own sister.  "So, how's school going?"

"It's okay.  I could really use your help though.  We're reading Lord of the Flies right now and I'm having trouble with some parts.  What's up with that pig's head?"  Spike chortled before stifling the laughter.

"Well, some say that became the lads' god on that island."

"And the others?"  Spike smirked into the receiver.

"They just think those boys are off their bleeding rocker."  Dawn's laughter made him smile.

"Well, I think I'm gonna go with the latter.  So, how's living with Giles?"

"Honestly?"

"Honesty's good."

"He's a bit stiff around the edges, but he's a pretty amenable person once you get to know the bloke."

"That's good to hear.  Cause Buffy thought you two would be boozing it up and acting like teenagers."  That's when he heard the voice.  Her voice.  She was there with Dawn, probably shocked at her sister for even confiding that bit of information to him.  He couldn't help but smile.  He tried to sound casual as he spoke.

"Is she there, niblet?"

"Yeah, you wanna talk to her?"  Of course he did.  She was the reason he called in the first place.

"Yeah, if she's able to come to the phone."  He could hear Dawn and Buffy's voices off in the distance.  Apparently, the receiver was no longer near Dawn's mouth.  The two women were probably having a little scuffle right now.  Sisters did that, and rightfully so.  "Okay, she's here.  Talk to you soon?"  He answered truthfully.

"You know it, bit."  After a moment of silence, there was a slight sound of breathing on the other end of the receiver.  Then the voice.

"Hello, Spike."

"Hello, Buffy."

A moment of silence surrounded the two locations on the planet before Buffy spoke.  "So, what are you doing up so late?  Isn't it almost morning there?"  Spike smiled at the sound of her voice.  She sounded concerned.

"Yeah.  It's a little after four here."  Buffy could hear the weariness in his voice.

"What's wrong?  Can't sleep?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Well, any chance you can grab a Squishie over there?"  Spike smiled at the memory.  It was one of his better memories of her.  Not that it was really that hard to beat since his head was still filled with memories from the Eye of Veritas.  With memories of a very different Buffy.  Spike shook the feeling away, trying to hide his emotion.

"Pet, I'm trying to get to sleep…"  Buffy interrupted him.

"So, you thought I'd bore you into a coma?  Nice."  Spike chuckled at her remark.

"Oh, come now.  If anything, you're anything but boring."

"Now you're just teasing."

"I'm serious, luv.  Any time I'm around you…"  Spike trailed off, wondering if those words had really come from his mouth.

"You what?"  Spike could hear the hope in Buffy's voice.  The small glimmer that he remembered something.  Something about them.

"Well, I'm definitely not bored."  Spike paused, then smiled as he spoke.  "More like irritated."  The laughter on the other end made his smile grow.

"So, you remember me annoying you?  Well, that's a two way street buster."

"What?  You have the hairs stand up in the back of your neck when you see yourself too?"  Another small chuckle from the both of them.

"When I see you, you idiot."  While the words could have been an insult, the tone in her voice conveyed no such meaning.  She was enjoying the moment.  "When you get your memories back, you'll see what I'm talking about."

"Maybe sooner than you think."  That was an odd comment.  Buffy spoke questioningly.

"Hmm?"

"The Council's finally ready to see me.  Later today, actually."  He could hear the sigh of disgust on the other end of the phone.

"Those sons of bitches.  You mean, you've been waiting for two weeks for those stuffy bureaucrats?"

"That about sums it up.  But, I'm guessing it woulda been longer if Giles didn't put his two cents in."  He could hear Buffy sigh on the other end.

"That's good to hear."  A slight pause before she continued.  "So, how are things working out with you and Giles?"  Her voice had a hint of humor as she spoke.  "He's not threatening to stake you, is he?  Because if he is…"  Spike chuckled before speaking.

"No worries, pet.  Everything's okay between me and the Watcher.  Poor bloke can't hold his liquor though."

"What?"

"He's totally pissed."  Buffy frowned at the news.  So, Dawn was right.  They were getting drunk.

"Tell me you didn't."

"Oh, yeah we did.  We went out to celebrate the news.  Had Indian cuisine, too.  Think I'm getting fond on the stuff."

"Well, I know what to serve when you get back, then."  It was Spike's turn to frown at her voice.  He still wasn't sure about a future in Sunnydale.  Not until his memories were his once again.

"Right.  So, how are things coming along for the wedding?  The whelp getting cold feet again?"  Buffy laughed at the comment.

"No, Xander's not getting cold feet.  And he's not a whelp."

"Fine, a git.  Happy?"  Buffy smiled at the sound of his voice.  That's when it hit her.

"Wait, you remember the first wedding?"  Spike looked out into the darkness of the living room, considering Buffy's words.  It was like that bit of knowledge decided to come to the surface as he spoke with her.  He grinned.

"Guess I do.  Hmm."

"What?"

"I just think it's odd remembering that.  Not like that was a major memory."  Buffy nodded, knowing that Spike wouldn't be able to see her.

"Well, at least it's something, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."  The silence once again overcame them, each wondering where to go with the conversation.  It was obvious that the memory issue was a painful one for Spike.  Buffy mentally kicked herself in the head as she tried to get back to a more comfortable area of conversation.

"So, the wedding's next week.  Any chance you and Giles will be done with the Council by then?"  She could hear the sincerity in his voice.

"Honestly, luv.  I don't know.  Took me two weeks to get my foot in the door.  I don't know how long they'll leave me in the waiting room twiddling my thumbs."  He didn't expect Buffy to laugh, but she did.  "I say something funny, luv?"

"You, twiddling your thumbs.  That's funny."

"Is it now?"

"Yeah.  The old you wouldn't take any crap from anyone."

"Yeah?"

"Yep.  So, if they do make you wait, just kick the door in and give Quentin a piece of your mind.  And maybe your fist too, while you're at it."  Spike didn't want to laugh, but the image of him hitting a Watcher was too much to resist.

"Alright, pet.  I'll keep your advice in mind."  Another moment of awkward silence between the two before he continued.  "Well, I should go.  Don't want to be running up Rupert's phone bill."  Buffy didn't want him to go.  She wanted to talk about Willow.  But it wasn't the right time.  Not when Spike already had so much on his mind.

"Okay.  Good luck today.  And, remember.  Don't let them push you around.  You're the one with the power."

"I'll remember, pet.  Thanks again."  Buffy was somewhat stunned at the compliment.

"For what?"

"For being here."  Buffy smiled at his words.

"Spike?"

"What is it, luv?"  She knew she probably shouldn't tell him, but he sounded like she felt.  She decided to risk it.

"I miss you."  The words floated in his head as he tried to comprehend what Buffy had just said.  She missed him.  Even after all the horrible things he had put her through, she still cared for him.  Spike cursed himself for not being able to reciprocate in kind, his memories not allowing him to.  But even so, she still cared for him.  Now, more than ever, Spike was determined to get the answers from the Council that he needed.  No matter what.

"Good night, Buffy."  He could hear her sigh on the other end, a hint of disappointment evident.  However, her next words reaffirmed her faith in him.

"Good night, William."  Before Spike could respond to the use of his former name, the phone clicked.  Where there was once Buffy's voice was now the monotonous tone of the open line signal.  Spike sighed as he placed the phone back into the cradle, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular.  He smirked at the recollection of the name.

"William."  With that, he placed the phone back onto the table before he went back to the bedroom to try and get some rest, knowing he wouldn't because of the reminder of her voice still in his head.  

_I miss you._

To be continued 


	11. Walking the Fine Line

Title:  Walking the Fine Line

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Language and Sexual Innuendo)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to Becoming, Graduation Day, Into the Woods, Checkpoint, and The Gift.

Summary:  Eleventh part of Falling into You series.

Status:  Finished (Part XI of ?)

"Oi, Giles.  You sure you're gonna be okay?"  Giles stood rather haphazardly in the doorway of the office building, his hand planted against the doorframe.  Spike didn't expect this.  Not in the least.  Well, he expected Giles being a bit queasy for the meeting, but he didn't expect the all-powerful Council to be housed in a twenty plus story building.  Kind of felt like they were lawyers, each floor denoting a different specialty.  Got a vengeance demon disrupting your life?  Twelfth floor.  Having trouble with the translation of a possible world ending prophecy?  The translators are on the seventh floor.  Giles stirred from the corner of Spike's eye, straightening his suit jacket as well as himself.

"I'm fine."  Spike lifted an eyebrow at the Watcher, noticing that he was beginning to lean toward the door once again.  "Just need for the building to stop swaying."  Spike tried his best not to laugh, but a small chuckle escaped from his lips.

"Right, then."  Spike adjusted his the collar on his shirt.  While this was strictly a business meeting, he couldn't bring himself to get all gussied up like Giles did on a daily basis.  So, he made a compromise.  He left his duster, jeans and boots back at the flat.  In their stead was a pair of slacks, loafers and the blue-collar button up that Giles loaned him.  Got to say, it felt okay, but then again, he didn't feel all that comfortable in the duster anymore.  Not since that night in the cemetery.  Spike moved toward Giles, his hand fiddling with the edges of the collar.  He knew that Buffy told him to show them that he was the one in control, but they were the ones with answers.  What could he possibly have to prove the contrary?  "So, any final pointers before we enter the depths of Hell?"  Giles eyed him, noting the smirk on his face.  Spike was enjoying Giles' inebriated state a bit too much for his taste.  But, to tell the truth, he'd probably be doing the same right about now were the tables reversed.

"Careful.  I do still work here."  Spike threw up his hands playfully, as though a local gang member was holding him up.  Giles shook his head, realizing that Spike was having too much fun watching him trying to maintain his balance.  "There will be numerous members in attendance today, but make sure you address the one talking directly to you.  Other than that, and you should be fine."  Spike nodded, his hands falling into his pockets.

"Alright then.  Let's go get some!"  Giles smirked at the off kilter comment.  While most normal people that knew about the Council would be shuddering in their knickers, Spike was anxious to go face the unknown.  Most likely because he had a great deal riding on the upcoming events.  But still, the fact that Spike didn't show any trepidation made Giles admire him that much more.  It had only been a few weeks since they had became reluctant flat mates, but in that time, Giles realized that there was a man underneath the supernatural.  Maybe even before Spike died saving the world from Willow's damnation.  But, there it was.  And, there was no denying it now.  Giles was beginning to find his respect for the lad growing each day.  Giles tilted his head toward the door, Spike nodding in understanding.  As Spike moved past Giles, he paused momentarily, not looking back at the Watcher.

"Rupert?"

"What is it, Spike?"  Giles expected Spike to say something grandiose or hard nosed at the moment, but the reality of Spike's words surprised him, to say the least.

"No matter what happens today, I just wanted to say thanks."  Before Giles could respond, Spike moved past the glass double doors and into the lobby of the building.  Giles looked on at the enigma that was once a master vampire, a look of understanding mixed with confusion on his face.  Another moment passed before Giles followed Spike into the building.

While the weather outside was sweltering, she could remember her hot skin being soothed by his cool, taut skin, his touch igniting her insides.  The crypt didn't have central air, but then again, they never needed it.  Not when all that mattered was the moment.  The moment in between the awkward initiation and the inevitable climax.   Buffy's hands moved down her sides, gripping the sheet tightly as her subconscious took her back to a time when things were simpler.  When all that mattered was the moment.  When all that mattered was his touch.  His voice.  His look.  Him.

She felt her body almost molding against his, as though she was trying to get closer to him physically even though it was impossible.  Any closer and they'd be sharing the same internal organs.  They were already sharing external ones as it was.  She focused on the sounds they made that night, as the heat raged against the storm outside the crypt, the illuminations of light inside being produced by random streaks of lightning.

While she couldn't see him, barring moments of white light from the lightning, she could feel him.  In her and all around her at the same time.  They never needed words.  At the beginning they did, as though it was some sort of twisted game of Marco Polo, trying to figure out what exactly the other wanted.  What the other needed.  But, at that moment in time, each knew what the other wanted.  What the other needed.  So, words weren't.  Not now.

At first, she regarded her nudity as shameful when she was with him.  Now, she relished it.  He worshipped her body, flaws and all, just as she did his.  Her mind flitted back to another moment in time when he asked her to take off her clothes.  She had thought it was for sex.  But, it was far from it.  Instead, he sat there, looking at her, as though he was looking at the heavens.  It made her uncomfortable at first.  But, when she saw the look of awe and serenity on his face, she knew then.  She knew that he really loved her.  But she didn't love him during that moment.  It took a much dire moment in time for her to realize that.

Her mind quickly moved back to the crypt, wanting to avoid the painful moments and just focus on the better ones.  His arms were wrapped under hers, one hand against the small of her back, the other in her hair, as hers were against his back, her nails digging, scraping across his taut, muscular flesh, their lips entwined, their moans drowned out by the sounds of the storm outside.

Buffy couldn't help but lose herself in him.  No one had ever made her feel this way before.  And it wasn't just the sex.  He was still there.  Even after all her insults and barbs, he remained.  Even when she assaulted him physically, he remained.  At first, Buffy thought that he was just a fool that loved pain.  That loved misery.  But she knew better now as she felt him all around her, her body aching for his touch.  He didn't leave her because he loved her.  Even in her darkest hour, he still loved her.  He remained.  While the others ran.  While the others offered ultimatums.  Spike remained.  Because he loved her.

Before her thoughts could move back to their moment of passion during that warm autumn night, a voice stirred her from her thoughts.

"He doesn't belong here."  Buffy turned her head to the source of the voice, looking over her shoulder as Spike continued his ministrations.  Her eyes fell on the shadows of the crypt against the wall.  There was someone there.  And the voice sounded familiar.  "Repercussions will be felt by his being here."  Lightning flashed once again, but the shadows concealed the being in the crypt.  As Buffy turned back toward Spike, she realized that he was gone.

"Spike?"

"The balance is off."  Buffy turned back to the figure, her clothes magically appearing on her body.  It was a dream, after all.  Why should this bother her?

"Balance?  What are you talking about?  Who are you?"

"A friend."

"Yeah?  My friends tend to talk to me face to face.  And they don't act like peeking toms when I'm having sex with my boyfriend."  The figure chuckled.

"Don't blame me.  This is your mind.  Guess you forgot what I look like."

"What?"

"It's not important.  What is important is that he's coming."  Buffy began to walk toward the shadow clad figure, but the more she walked, the more it felt like she was moving backward.

"I don't understand."

"What can I tell you, kid?  You only understand the big moments when you actually see them."  The words sounded so familiar to her.

"Who doesn't belong here?  Who's coming?"

"I can't tell you.  There are rules."

"Rules for dreams?  You're kidding, right?"  Another chuckle from the figure.

"It's all part of the game."

"Now we're playing a game?"

"A very serious one.  One you shouldn't have gotten yourself involved in."  Buffy sighed, her dream beginning to vex her.

"Okay.  I'm getting tired of the whole cryptic routine.  Unless you have something meaningful to say to me, I'm going to get back to my boyfriend."

"There's that word again."  Buffy looked into the shadows, a frown on her face.

"What word?"

"Boyfriend.  Thought Angel was the love of your life?"  It was true.  Angel was the love of her life.  But that was a different life.  She was still only a child when she fell in love with Angel.  He was her first.  He would always have a piece of her heart.  But she was a different person now.  She was an adult now.  And her relationship with Spike was the first adult one.  Maybe that's why she pushed him away.  Because she didn't want to be an adult.  She didn't want this to be real.  She didn't want to accept the fact that Spike made her happy.  That Spike was the one person that would accept her, good or bad.  "And now you've traded in your brunette for the blonde."  Buffy looked at the shadows, a look of disgust on her face.

"I'm going now.  Feel free to disappear back into the…  Oh, wait.  You're already in the shadows."

"Nice one, kid."  The accent was definitely familiar.  "Fine, I'll go.  But just remember, he's coming."  Buffy spoke, a hint of sarcasm tinting her words.

"Guess it won't make a difference if I ask nicely to tell me who?"

"Sorry.  Rules are rules."

"Yeah, right."  The anger was now evident in Buffy's voice.  What right did her mind have to do this to her?  Right when she was getting to the good part with Spike.

"I can tell you this.  What you had to go through with Angel?  Sending him to Hell?"  This got Buffy's attention, her body spinning back around to face him.

"Yeah?"

"That was nothing compared to what's gonna happen next."  Buffy sighed.  It was only a dream.  Only a dream.  Right?

"Why don't you tell me what's gonna happen, so I can prepare myself for it."  No hint of humor was evident this time from the figure.  Only seriousness.

"Even if I could, kid.  It still wouldn't change a thing.  Balance needs to be restored."  Before Buffy could respond, a loud, shrill tone echoed throughout the crypt, the sounds of the storm outside being drowned out.  Buffy's hands went to her ears as her eyes flew open.  As she began to focus, she realized that she was awake and the shrill sound was being emitted from her alarm clock.  Time to get up and go to work.  Buffy sighed as her hand came down on the snooze button.

"Just a dream."  But she couldn't shake the feeling that it was anything but.

Spike felt like he was in one of those fantasy epics as he walked through the halls of the Watcher's Council.  On the outside, the building looked like every other office building in the surrounding area.  There were even some that towered over it.  However, it was probably a safe assumption to say that the interiors were vastly different.  If not, then every other building would have various demons walking amongst humans.  Giles noticed Spike's bewilderment as they neared the inner sanctum of the building.

"You get used to it after a while."  Spike turned his gaze from a Snorphlex demon, male by the way it was acting.  Spike had to smirk at the scene.  The demon was hitting on one of the secretaries.  One of the human secretaries.  His gaze fell onto Giles, the smile fading.

"Doesn't really bother me."

"Then what is it that has you, mouth agape?"  Spike was about to dispel the Watcher's comment, but realized that his mouth was indeed open.  So, he was a little bit in awe at the scene in front of him.  But, then again, this wasn't an everyday occurrence.  Well, maybe to Giles.  But other than that.  Spike sighed, his mouth slowly closing before he decided to answer Giles' question.

"Watchers cavorting with demons?"  Before Giles could respond, Spike continued his appraisal of the situation.  "What ever is the world coming to?"  Giles noted the smirk on Spike's face as they continued down the hallway that felt like it would never end.  If Spike didn't know better, he could have sworn that they'd been walking for at least an hour.

"Well, I've been cavorting with you about half a month.  You should have realized that this was commonplace."  Spike's eyebrows lifted slightly upon hearing the sarcasm seeping in every word that came out of Giles' mouth.

"Right.  And let's try and classify what type of demon you've been sharing your flat with, shall we?"  As Spike was about to speak, he felt something brush against his shoulder.  Before Spike could turn around to see who, or what, had done this; he felt a hand cup his rear, squeezing rather tightly.  "Oi!"  Spike turned around to see a woman, almost in her fifties, looking up at him with a mischievous grin on her face.  And her hand was still affixed to his person.  "Hey, leggo, you crazy…"

"Spike!"  Spike's tirade came to an abrupt end as Giles began to move in between his person and the elderly woman.  "Hello, Ms. Katsevich.  Um, shouldn't you be in Receiving right about now?"

"What?  But it's teatime.  Just wanted to have me a snack."  Her eyes flew back to Spike as she ended her explanation.  Spike didn't know whether he should feel flattered that someone of the opposite sex was showing such interest in him or feel concerned that the woman could be someone's grandmother.  Before Spike could choose which, Giles spoke.

"That's very well and good, Ms. Katsevich.  But this young man is the one I've been telling you about."  Spike was surprised to see the woman's look go from one of attraction to one of pity in a matter of seconds.

"You poor bastard.  I'll leave ye be then."  As Spike was going to respond, the elderly woman moved past him, walking into what looked like a concession area.

"What the hell was all that about, then?"  Spike's disposition went from curiosity to perturbation when he heard Giles chuckle.

"You're welcome."

"For what?"

"For saving your very life."  Spike shook his head, not following the train of thought that Giles was obviously following.  At that moment, Spike was pretty sure Giles' train derailed somewhere between insane and senile.

"Yeah, I was really terrified of…"

"The Meshnik demon."  The anger subsided once he realized what Giles was trying to tell him.

"Houl on.  Meshnik?"  Giles nodded, a small smile on his face as he did so.  "That ol' nanny?"

"That's right."

"Bloody hell!"  Giles gently patted Spike on the shoulder as Spike tried to gather his thoughts.  "Tea time.  The cheek squeeze.  She was looking for a sodding meal, wasn't she?"

"Afraid so.  Ms. Katsevich sees anyone she doesn't recognize as an employee as food."  Spike nodded before his thoughts finally caught up to him.

"So, she works in Receiving?  What exactly happens there?"  Giles took a small breath before he spoke.

"That's where we receive whatever specimens that prove to be too unruly for the world to deal with."  Spike nodded, somewhat understanding what Giles was trying to imply.

"So, basically, it's a big ol' buffet for Miss Muffet?"

"You could say that."

"Cor.  A Meshnik demon."

"We have seven on staff."

"Seven?"  Spike couldn't believe what he was hearing.  His memory may be wonky, but he remembered reading about the Meshnik species.  While they could take and wear the skins of any other species, that's not what they were renowned for.  The whole mouth morph thing was pretty bizarre.  Basically, they had the ability to reshape their mouths and teeth to any form.  Whatever proved to be the best for devouring their prey in a quick two to three bites.  "What the hell did you promise them so they'd behave?  From what I remember, those blokes have a rather insatiable appetite."  Giles answered matter of factly.

"All they could eat."  Spike smirked at the Watcher as they continued walking down the hall.

"Knew you had a wry wit about you.  Too bad Buffy and the rest of them all think you're an old stick in the mud."  Giles feigned insult as Spike chuckled softly.

"Oh, what ever shall I do to remedy this situation?"  Spike's chuckle increased in volume upon hearing Giles' response.  "Seriously, though.  I have to maintain a certain demeanor when I'm around them."  Giles didn't expect the question from Spike.

"Why?"

"Because while they are young adults now, they will always be children in my eyes, I suppose.  Plus, a Watcher gallivanting with his Slayer is rather taboo."

"Had no idea you thought of her like that, Rupert?"  The insinuating tone in Spike's voice caught his attention.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah.  I'm just messin' around."

"Right."  Giles figured it wouldn't hurt, throwing in his two cents on the current situation between the man next to him and his former charge.  "Besides, she's already taken with you."  Spike couldn't believe the words just spoken to him.  From the one man that would never speak those words in the first place.

"Look, before you start berating me about what Buffy and I had…"  Giles raised his hand, waving Spike's words to the wayside.

"I'm not."  Giles stopped walking once again, this time moving to a side window where he looked out at the world below.  "It's just, somewhere in between you trying to kill her and you stopping Willow, she developed certain feelings for you."  Spike, seeing what Giles was trying to do, decided to opt out of the conversation before things got more awkward.

"I know that there was something between me and Buffy, but with my memory…"

"Yes, yes.  I know.  I understand and sympathize with you."

"Don't need your sympathy, Rupert.  All I need are answers."  Giles turned to face him, his shoulder resting against the glass of the spacious window.  "Once I get those, I should be able to figure out where to go from here."

"I guess you're right."  At that point, Giles genuinely smiled at the once former vampire.

"What?  I say something amusing?"

"No.  It's just, I find myself agreeing with you more often ever since you've…"  Giles tried to remain tasteful without bringing up terrible memories of the past.  "How should I put this?"

"Risen from the grave?"  Giles frowned at the choice of words.

"How utterly Biblical of you, Spike."  Spike grinned at the Watcher as he spoke.

"Hey.  I'm here, aren't I?"

"That you are, yes."

"Then I'm not lying."  Giles sighed as he turned his body away from the window, now facing Spike.

"It's just, Buffy's been through a lot ever since Joyce died.  Even before that, her life was extremely difficult.  But now, with everything's that's transpired in the past few months, I'm afraid that…"  Spike finished the thought for him.

"You're afraid that me being back will bring her more pain and heartache.  Right?"  Giles nodded; somewhat amazed that Spike could read him so accurately.  Maybe what they said about vampires was correct, that they could read minds.  "Well, no worries there, mate.  Not even sure I'm going back to the states once this is over."

"What…what did you say?"  Spike spoke, a hint of shame in his voice.

"Not sure if I want to go back."  To say the news surprised Giles would be an understatement.

"Why would you even fathom such an idea?  After everything you two have been through?"

"And, what was that exactly?  Me trying to kill her and her little Scoobies any chance I got?  Her telling me that she hated me on countless occasions?  Or is it the fact that we had a relationship that was based solely on sex for well about a year?"  Spike sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice.  "You keep on telling me that she felt something for me, but I don't remember that.  All I remember is what Doc showed me in that damn orb."  Giles wanted to intervene, but the fact that Spike was making very good points stopped him.  To tell the truth, if Giles were in Spike's place, he'd probably be going through the same thought processes right about now.

"And what if you get your memories back that say other than the contrary?"  Spike looked up at the Watcher, seeing that he was actually concerned for Spike's well being.

"Then I guess I'll know whether I go back or not."

"You hate her that much?"

"I didn't say that.  It's just…"  Spike looked down, as though he could gather his thoughts better if he didn't have to look at Giles.  "It's just that I don't know what I feel.  I mean, I like being around her and all."  That much was evident during their last night together, walking the streets of Sunnydale, without a care in the world.  "But when I think there's something there, my mind keeps on shouting out that this is wrong.  That she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you."

"And I have your word to go on that, eh?"  Spike shook his head, a look of seriousness now enveloping his features.  "Sorry, mate.  But what if this is all just another elaborate play to put yours truly in the ground?"

"Spike…"  Giles knew that he wouldn't get anywhere with the man standing in front of him.  Not now.  Not like this.  So, he conceded, allowing Spike to deal with his memories for the time being.  Giles, now more than ever, hoped that the Council elders would have the answers Spike was looking for.  If so, then maybe things could finally get better for Buffy as well as Spike.  Giles momentarily smiled at the thought.  He, wishing good will toward Spike.  How things had changed.

"What?"  Giles shook his head, as though he was shaking off a dream.  He had to be.  After all, here he was, in London, with Spike.  And they were acting amiably.

"Nothing."  After a moment of silence, Giles nodded at Spike.  "We should get going.  Wouldn't want to keep the elders waiting."

"Wouldn't, at that."  With a silent understanding between them, both men began to walk once again.  However, this time instead of an elderly woman that could devour them in a matter of seconds, there stood a normal looking man dressed rather formally.

"Mr. Giles.  The elders are waiting for you."  Giles looked down at his watch.  Five sixteen.  Giles knew that Spike had to wake him for the meeting, but Giles had no idea he had slept in that late.  Giles sighed, as though disgusted by himself, before he spoke.

"Terribly sorry.  We're on our way."

"Very well, then."  Spike extended his hand to the individual.  Might as well be friendly while in unfamiliar territory.

"Cheers, mate.  Name's Spike."  The individual looked at him, a hint of fear in his eyes as he stepped back, nodding at him.

"I know who you are, William.  Or do you go by the Bloody?"  Spike grinned at the chap.

"Spike'll do."

"Very well, then.  You should hurry.  The elders do not like to be kept waiting."  And with that, the young man walked away.  Rather quickly, Spike noticed.

"What was that all about?"  Giles had noticed the young man's behavior as well.  It seemed rather peculiar, to say the least.

"We'll worry about that later.  For now, we need to get to the inner chamber.  The elders don't like to be kept waiting."  Spike nodded, feeling a little unsettled by the young man's eyes.  It had been a long time since he'd seen fear like that.  So long ago, he couldn't place the moment.  But the feeling was vivid.  It was one Spike knew very well.  Shaking the thought away, Spike turned to Giles, nodding.

"Right, then.  Let's get this over with."  With that, the two men continued down the hall to face the Council elders.

Buffy was pulling on her suit jacket when she saw Dawn and Tara in the kitchen, sitting at the island having breakfast.  She smiled at the two women as she snuck her hand between them, grabbing a glass of orange juice.

"Hey, that's mine, butt."  Dawn's voice was playful as she scolded her older sister.

"Sorry, Dawnie.  Running late."

"So I see, sleepyhead."  Buffy looked at Dawn until she realized that her sister's eyes were looking at her head.  More precisely, the top of her head.  Buffy swiveled her gaze to the window, seeing her reflection.  In her haste to get dressed, she had forgotten about her hair.

"Oh, my God."  Buffy gave the glass back to Dawn as she made her way to the living room mirror, pulling a brush from her purse.  Tara spoke from the kitchen as Buffy tended to her hair.

"Hey, Buffy.  Uh, we need to talk."

"What are we doing now?"  Her hair looked presentable, but one strand decided not to follow the rest today, falling in front of her face.  Buffy swiped at it a few more times until it finally stayed with the rest.

"We're talking.  But, we need to talk about something.  Something important."

"What is it, Tara?"  Buffy finally made her way back into the kitchen, Dawn giving her a thumbs up, indicating that her older sister was ready to tackle the never ending lines of bank patrons.  Buffy moved back to the island, this time snagging a piece of toast.  Dawn looked at her sister as she took a bite out of the dry piece.  How utterly revolting.  Dry toast was a crime as far as she was concerned.  Tara looked at Buffy, unsure of how to actually begin the conversation.  So, she decided to start with the obvious.

"Willow can come home today."  Buffy looked at Tara as she continued chewing on her dry toast.  Dawn sipped her orange juice, looking at the conversation unfolding in front of her.  Tara had already told her that Willow was given the okay to check out of the hospital.  The only problem was, she didn't have a place to go to.  

Her parents had moved to Los Angeles after the doctors told them that there was no chance of their daughter ever recovering.  So, they had left the city, with a do not resuscitate order placed on their daughter.  They couldn't bring themselves to pull the plug, so they decided to let nature take its course.  While the gang had at first thought it callous of them to run away from their only daughter, they began to understand what they were going through when they came to visit Willow during her coma.  Being reminded of her condition every day could be a lot to deal with.  Her parents still loved her, but they couldn't deal with the grief.  So, they moved to Los Angeles.  Far enough to leave the pain behind but close enough to come back if anything were to happen to their beloved daughter.  After a moment of silence, Buffy spoke.

"That's good news, right?"  Tara answered, a slight smile on her face.

"Of…of course."

"Well, when is she checking out?"  Dawn chimed in.

"At noon."  Buffy turned to her sister, realizing that both women had already talked about Willow's release.  But, they were acting somewhat strange around her.  As though they were anxious.

"Well, tell Will I'm sorry that I can't be there, but I'll be here tonight.  We'll go out.  Call Xander and Anya.  We'll make a night of it."  Tara smiled at Buffy's tone as she continued.  "I guess we can clear out the storage room for Willow when she gets here."

"Wha…what?"  Tara initially thought that Buffy would be uncomfortable with the idea of Willow moving back into the house.  But she was treating it as though it was just another everyday occurrence.  "I mean, that's good to hear.  But you don't have to go to all that trouble."  Buffy looked at Tara, unsure of what she meant.  Then she saw the look in her eyes.  That's all she needed to know.

"Oh.  Oh!  I mean, yeah.  Of course I should have known.  You and Will can use mom's room like you did before.  But…"  Tara looked up at Buffy as she finished her piece of toast.

"What is it, Buffy?"

"Don't you think you're moving a bit fast?  After all, she's trying to recover from what's happened."  Tara gently smiled at her friend, Dawn moving from the island to gather her books into her backpack.

"I know.  But I think it'll be easier for her if we let her know how much we missed her."  Tara meant to say how much she missed her.  But, based on the looks she was getting from the Summers' women, she didn't have to say it.  Buffy moved over to Dawn, helping her with her backpack as she spoke.

"That's fine, honey.  I think it's a good idea.  See you tonight, okay?"

"Okay."

"And, remember to call Xander and Anya.  This is going to be a great day, I can feel it."  Dawn looked at her sister, a look of concern in her eyes.

"You okay, Buffy?"

"Yeah, Dawnie.  Why?"

"Because you actually sound happy."  Buffy tugged at Dawn's arm, moving her toward the living room.

"What?  I'm always happy."

"Yeah, and I'm the queen of Sheba."  Tara couldn't help but chuckle as she watched the two siblings make their way out of the house.  Things were definitely looking up.

Xander awoke to find an arm slung across his face.  He tried to recollect the events of the past night, but all he could remember was feeling flushed and sweaty.  And exhausted.  Very exhausted.  Xander gently moved the arm from across his face, smiling when he saw his bride to be on the other end.  At first he thought it was some wonderful dream.  But it wasn't.  It was better.  Because it was real.  It was his life.

"An, time to get up."  He gently nudged Anya's side with him elbow, her body wrapped around his.  "We have to get to work, honey."  Anya mumbled something incoherent before she moved closer to Xander, burying her face into his side.  The sensation against his side caused him to chuckle softly.  Even when she slept, she knew where he was ticklish.  He pulled her closer to him, dropping a light kiss on the top of her head.  "Rise and shine, Anya.  Time to make money."

"M…money?"  That got her attention.

"That's right, hon. Time to go to work."  The response he got was one he wasn't expecting.

"Let's just stay home today.  I'm too happy to leave right now."

"But, what about the shop?  You'll be losing a day's profit."  She looked up at him, a small smile playing on her lips.

"There's always the holidays to gouge the customers."  Xander looked down, giving her a bemused look.  "Fine, fine.  No gouging.  Happy?"

"Happy."  Xander began to get up from the bed, but Anya gently pushed her back down.  "Hey, gotta get to work.  Remember?"  Anya slid over him so he was directly under him now.  Xander could have pushed her off with ease, but decided he liked the position he was in at the moment.

"I don't know.  You look kinda sick.  Let me feel."  Before Xander could respond, he could feel Anya's hand sliding under the sheets.  Then he let out a small gasp.  "See, you definitely feel hot."

"Aaannnnnnn."  His tone said no but his eyes said yes.

"Hmm, definitely too ill to work today."  She lowered her head to his forehead, gently trailing kisses down his forehead, across his cheek, until she came to his lips.  Xander instinctively wrapped his arms around his fiancée, pulling her closer to him as their kiss deepened.  That's when the phone rang.  Xander groaned upon hearing the sound.  His arm closest to the phone moved away from Anya's body, grabbing the air for the phone on the nightstand.  Anya mumbled between kisses.

"Don't…don't answer…"

"Have…to.  Might be…work."  Anya deepened the kiss, hoping to distract him long enough so the phone would go silent.  No such luck because Xander's hand finally found the phone.  He gently pulled away, bringing the receiver to his mouth.  "Hu…hello."

"Uh.  Hi, Xander.  Is…is this a bad time?"  Tara could have sworn that she heard groaning on the other end of the phone.

"Um, no.  Not bad."  Anya continued kissing his neck, moving to his earlobe, gently nibbling.  "Wh…what's up, Tara?"

"Willow's coming home today."  Xander smiled at the news his friend had just told him.  That, and the fact that Anya's touch was making him quiver.  "Buffy thought it'd be a good idea if we all go out tonight.  Like old times."  Somehow, Xander got his voice to work.

"Yeah, that sounds great.  What time should we be over tonight?"

"Um, how's six?"

"Six is doable."  Anya slipped under the covers, Xander audibly sighing at what she was doing under the sheets.  Tara didn't want to giggle, but she now knew what was happening on the other side of the line.  "See you…tonight."

"Bye, Xander.  And tell Anya I said hi."  Xander answered in a grunt before dropping the phone to the side of the bed.  He couldn't remember if he clicked off the signal, but at that moment, not much mattered.

"Uh, Tara says hi."  Anya mumbled something, Xander pressing the back of his head against the pillow.  Suddenly, being ill seemed like a really good idea.

Spike walked into the inner chamber.  He wondered why they kept calling it that.  He got his answer as soon as he surveyed his surroundings.  While the rest of the building looked modern with fax machines, desktop computers, and coffeemakers, this room was different.  Well, maybe different wasn't the right word.  How about very out of place.

The room looked as though it came out of medieval times, the walls constructed out of gray stone slabs, the floor in the same manner.  The room was illuminated in torchlight, while at the head of the room there were located rows of seats set up in tier formation.  Looked like there was going to be an audience, after all.  Before Spike could contemplate his surroundings, a side door opened, this one made of what looked like hardened steel.  Spike heard the chains grinding against a pulley as the door, no, more of a gate, slid up and out of view.  Then came what Spike could only guess was the elders.

They separated into three rows, each row filling each vacant slot of chairs.  And situated in the center of the group was Quentin Travers.

"Hello, William."

"Spike."  Quentin nodded, as he continued.

"Very well.  Spike.  We've been waiting for you.  Almost thought Giles forgot about the meeting today."  He turned to Giles, who stood at Spike's side, almost as though he was Spike's advocate.  Well, it felt that way to Spike as the numerous eyes fixated on his person.

"Just lost track of time, Quentin.  That's all."

"See that it doesn't happen again."  Giles nodded, Spike somewhat surprised at the Watcher's behavior.  As far as he could remember, Quentin wasn't that important in the first place.  Things must have changed since he last ran into the Council.  "So, Spike.  We hear that you think we can help you with your recent memory loss.  Is that right?"

"That's right."  Another member spoke, this a middle aged woman with glasses.

"And what makes you think we can help you?"  Spike looked around until he saw where the voice came from.

"Man named Doc."  At the sound of the name, the elders spoke in hushed whispers.  Apparently, the name meant something to them.  After a moment, the group quieted down, Quentin speaking once again.

"What exactly did he tell you?"

"Enough.  That you blokes are responsible for bringing me back.  What I wanna know is, why?"  An elderly Indian man answered.

"We are the ones asking the questions, Mr. Spike."

"Spike.  No mister."  The Indian man smiled at him even though he didn't mean it.

"You will answer our questions.  We are not here to answer your questions.  Is that clear?"  Spike nodded, anger sparkling in his eyes.  After two weeks and he was still getting the runaround.

"Crystal."  Before Quentin could respond, Spike turned around, making his way for the doors.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere that's not here, that's for bloody well certain."  Giles walked quickly over to Spike's side, trying to talk reason to him.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?  I'm leaving.  These wankers aren't gonna tell me anything."

"Give them a chance.  They're just testing you."  Spike stopped walking and turned to Giles.

"Rupert, I'm tired of these games.  First Doc, now them.  Uh uh.  I'm done."  Spike turned away, beginning to walk again.  However, this time, a rather big individual emerged from the shadows, standing in front of the doorway.  "Out of the way tons o' fun."

"Spike, be careful."  Spike looked back, seeing the hint of worry in Giles' eyes.  Then the smell hit him.  Something familiar.  That's when it clicked.

"Bloody hell.  You a Meshnik?"  The big man smiled, his grin growing, as well as his teeth, as he did so.  "Why can't things ever be simple?"  Before Spike could ponder the question, the demon lunged at Spike, mouth agape, and wide enough to tear Spike's top half clean off.  However, Spike was ready.  Instead of backing up, allowing the monster time to open it's jaws, he moved toward the demon, his hands flying from his sides to either jaw, holding them steady.  Then he sunk his fingers into the demon's flesh, the monster screaming in pain.  "Sorry, mate.  But I've grown attached to my head."  

In a quick motion, Spike pulled the Meshnik's jaws close, sliding his hands out quickly as he did so.  The demon's teeth shattered upon impact, bits of enamel falling to the ground.  Spike couldn't help but make the comparison to one of those cartoon cats that had their teeth dangling from their jaw after the mouse hit him square in the kisser with a golf club.  But, in this case, the cat was a very pissed off Meshnik, whose mouth began to grow again.  If he couldn't gnaw on Spike, he'd do the next best thing.  Swallow him whole.  Spike, not to keen on that idea, moved swiftly, planting his fist into the demon's abdomen.  The demon doubled over in pain, a yellowish substance, most likely blood, flowing from his lips.  Without waiting, Spike grabbed the demon by his shirt collar and flung him over his shoulder toward the direction of the elders.

Before the elders could react, the monster came crashing down to the floor, the momentum of Spike's throw carrying him against the rough floor.  In a matter of seconds, inertia and friction did their jobs, the Meshnik stopping his trajectory toward the seats.  The elders looked at Spike as he stood there, a huge smirk on his face.

"Anyone else want some?"  Spike noticed that the elders were whispering amongst themselves, he catching bits of their conversation.

"My God."

"Doc was right."

"…What is he?"

"…male Slayer?"  The last tidbit got Spike's attention.  He moved towards Giles, whispering to him as the elders continued their commotion.

"Oi, Rupert."  Giles looked back at the destruction Spike had caused before he turned back to Spike.

"Yes?"

"Is there such a thing as a male Slayer?"  Giles looked at him, a bit surprised.  Buffy had brought up that same topic back in the hospital room when they had survived their ordeal with Doc.  She had asked him if it was possible if Spike was a male Slayer.  After all, Anya had heard about them, and she pretty much knew about every type of demon and myth that was out there.  Giles had answered honestly.  He had never heard of such a thing.  But, then again, there were certain texts that were off limits to Watchers that weren't a member of the elders.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because one of those high muckity mucks just mentioned it."

"How did you…"  Before Giles could finish his query, Spike answered, pointing a finger to his ear.

"My ears never lie."

"Oh.  Well, I haven't heard of there ever being a male Slayer.  But, if you heard one of the elders say it, it might be true."  Spike looked at him, nodding.

"Right.  Then I know what they're up to then."  He shot Giles a quick grin before he advanced back to the center of the room.  As the hushed whispers continued, the Meshnik lying unconscious at the feet of the stands, Spike spoke.  "Oi!  Oi!  If you chattering nannies could shut your yaps!"  The sound of his voice echoed throughout the large room, the stone walls making very good acoustics.  The elders turned their attention to the man now standing in front of them.  "Good.  Now that I've got your attention.  Let me tell you why you lot brought me here."  He walked closer to them, his pace a slow, casual one.  "You think I'm the male Slayer incarnate.  Innit right?"  The group looked at one another, giving Spike the answer he needed.  Quentin's voice hovered over the whispers.

"Did Giles tell you about that?"  Spike turned back, noting that Giles looked surprised at the accusation.  Of course Giles didn't know what was going on.  He was as much in the dark as Spike was.  Most likely a by-product of being Buffy's Watcher.

"He didn't know anything about that.  But…"  Spike's finger moved across the sea of people, settling on an elderly British man sitting just above Quentin.  "The bloke to your right needs to work on keeping secrets."  The old man couldn't do anything but look appalled at the accusation, even though he knew that he had let that bit of information slip during the commotion.  Quentin looked back at Spike and Giles, thinking of a fitting punishment for the elder that had given their hand away.

"Well, I see your hearing is as good as ever."  Spike nodded, the smirk still on his face.  "It's true.  We thought that you might be the beginning of a new male Slayer line."  At that point, Quentin motioned to the side doors, which once again opened.  This time, a group of Watchers came into the room, working together to drag the Meshnik demon out of the room.  From the other door there emerged a demon that Spike couldn't identify.  Its skin had a green tint, its face a mix between a goat and a preying mantis.  Its arms were slightly longer than its legs, its digits curving, almost claw like.  And it was coming toward Spike.

"Oi.  Houl up, mate.  Wouldn't want to get violent so soon after I laid your friend out."  The demon stopped as soon as Spike spoke, looking back toward Quentin.

"We mean you no harm, William."  Spike noted the name and decided that he really didn't like this Travers bloke.  "Rachid is going to find out what you really are.  That's all."

"Oh.  Is that right?"  Spike moved his gaze from Quentin to the demon, noting the slight smile on its lips.  Or were those pincers?  He couldn't really see.  "Well, no one's getting any answers until I get some first.  Like how does Doc tie back to your Superfriends group?"  Quentin could see that Spike was adamant about this point, so he decided to tell him.

"Doc used to be an employee of the Council."  This came as a surprise to both Spike and Giles, Giles voicing his concern.

"Ex…excuse me?"

"That's right, Rupert.  He was in our employ while you were tending to Ms. Summers in America."  Giles felt somewhat betrayed by the news.  And the fact that that madman had almost killed both him and Xander just a few weeks ago.

"Doing what, exactly?"  Quentin turned his gaze to Spike, leaving Giles to his thoughts.

"He specialized in prophecies, old texts, and the sort.  He was very well versed in the art of translation."

"As well as cutting up little girls on top of high towers."  Quentin nodded at the vampire's remark.

"We had nothing to do with his helping Glorificus."

"I'm sure you didn't.  But you didn't give the Slayer a head's up neither."  Quentin smiled at the man standing in front of him.  He reminded him of another person.  Of another Slayer.

"We knew of his presence in Sunnydale, but we didn't see him as a threat."  Before Spike could wonder how they knew about Doc's whereabouts, Quentin continued his tirade.  "Not until it was too late.  Anyway, that's now a part of history.  Shall we focus on the present?"

"I can do that.  So, why did Doc spring me from your humble abode?"

"It's like you surmised, William.  He thought you were the male Slayer."  Spike didn't see what the big deal was all about.

"So?  That means what?  Another person sticking pointy sticks through vampires?"  Quentin, as well as numerous members of the Council elders, chuckled at Spike's lack of knowledge.

"My boy, it's not that simple.  Male Slayers were much more versed in the arts of slaying than female Slayers."

"Oooookay.  So you have a more efficient vampire duster.  Why would Doc go through all that trouble to spring me?  After all, he was more in the realm of hell gods.  Why all the trouble for a Slayer?"

"It's somewhat complicated."  Spike was getting vexed by the verbal tennis match right about now.

"So, explain it to me.  Feel free to use diagrams if you think it'll help."  Giles noted that Quentin's smile began to fade upon hearing Spike's words.  No doubt an evident jab at Quentin's superiority complex.  Giles smiled at the thought as Quentin spoke.

"Male Slayers are so much more than their female counterparts."  Spike waited for the explanation as Giles took his glasses off, rubbing them against his shirt.  "Along with physical prowess, male Slayers also display natural instinct when it comes to the dark arts."  This bit of news got Giles' attention.

"Dark arts?"

"He means black magic.  Innit right, Quentin?"  If the man wouldn't call him by the proper name, Spike thought turnabout was fair play.

"Yes.  That's right."

"So, any other party tricks come with the Slayer package?"

"An awareness of the fourth dimension."  Spike was the one stumped this time.

"Fourth dimension?"  Giles came to his aid.

"He means time."  Spike turned to his only friend in the room.

"Thanks, mate."

"Any time."  Both men smiled at the subtle play on words.  Quentin couldn't help but notice the natural rapport Giles had with the once master vampire.  That might prove useful knowledge later on.  Spike turned back to Quentin, ignoring the rest of the people in attendance, his attention still focused on the demon standing a few feet away from him.

"Okay, you have a time tripping Slayer that's handy with magicks and his hands.  What's the big deal?"  It wasn't until he finished his sentence that Spike truly realized how deadly someone like that could be.  And why Doc had alluded to the power they would possess if Spike had sided with the madman back in Sunnydale.  "Never mind.  Think I just answered my own question."  Giles nodded agreement at Spike's words.

"My God.  Someone like that could…"  Quentin finished his thought.

"Have the world in the palm of his hand were he to disobey the Council."  Spike noted the looks of fear and hatred pointed in his general direction.  "So, you can see why we need to be sure if he is or not."

"And what if I am?"

"Two choices.  One.  You work for us in our goal of ridding the world of vampires and all things evil."

"And two?"

"You leave of your own free will."  Spike chuckled at the tone in Quentin's voice, as well as his proposal.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, William."

"Isn't that kind of lax of you?  Letting a supposed killer like me walk out of here?  With all this power no less?"  Quentin chuckled at the man's observation.

"Oh, I haven't forgotten your past misdeeds, William.  It's just that, we offer two choices, when in reality there is only one choice for you to make."

"Like I'd ever work for you bunch of wankers.  Heard what you do to Slayers that stand by your side.  Abandon them in their time of need, yeah?"  Quentin turned to Giles, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Have you been telling tall tales again, Rupert?"  Giles was getting a bit tired of the accusations at this point.

"Just common knowledge, Quentin."  Before the Watchers could get into a shouting match, Spike intervened.

"Oi.  Eyes down front, Quentin."  The two Watchers called a temporary cease-fire.  They knew they'd have ample time to discuss the intricacies of Council secrets later.  "There now.  So, what makes you think I'd sit like a good l'il dog?"

"The Key."  Spike couldn't make the connection.

"Key?  You mean Dawn?"

"That's right, William."

"She has nothing to do with us."  Quentin smiled, as though he knew something that would prove vital to Spike's next decision.

"But, she has everything to do with you, William."  Spike and Giles stood there, waiting for an explanation.  "She's the reason you're back among the living."  Spike began to laugh at the desperate ploy Quentin was resorting to.

"Right.  And there's a Santa Claus."

"This is no joke, William."  Spike turned to Giles, hoping to get some reassurance from the Watcher.  Instead, all he saw was a look of trepidation on Giles' face.  Quentin wasn't playing.  "From our observations and research, it appears that the Key still has some latent energies.  And those energies are responsible for you being here right now."

"How?"

"We're unsure about that, but we know that she was responsible for your resurrection.  Giles can attest to that much."  Spike turned to Giles, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.  That his l'il bit was responsible in his being back.

"Giles?"

"Um, yes.  It's possible."  Giles removed his glasses once again, this time not replacing them.  "When you…when you died, something happened."

"Something?"

"The energy that tore your body apart flowed into Dawn.  That same energy somehow healed her wounds after she was dead."  Spike couldn't believe that no one had told him this before.  But, then again, he didn't remember Dawn dying.  Or his own death for that matter.

"I don't believe this.  I…I can't."

"It's all true, William."  Spike looked up at Quentin, noting the smug smile on his face.  Bastard thought he had him.  That much was certain.

"So, say it's true.  What makes you think I'll stay here for your whims?"  Quentin's voice almost chilled Spike and Giles to their very core when he spoke.

"Because if you don't, we'll have no choice but to resort to experimenting on the lovely Dawn Summers."

"Rot.  You don't have that kind of power.  To get to her in the states where her sister is always looking after her."  Quentin didn't speak.  Instead, he motioned to the back doors.  Giles and Spike turned around slowly to see a small video screen drop out from the ceiling slowly.  Then, before the two men could query about the screen, it flickered on.  And there was Dawn, sitting in class, her chin nestled in her hand, obviously bored by the topic.  Then the voice.

"Yes, Mr. Travers?  How can we help you today?"

"Can you move on the Key at a moment's notice?"  Spike couldn't take his eyes off the screen.

"Of course, Mr. Travers.  Do you want us to move?"

"No, not yet.  Thank you for your help.  Continue surveillance of the target."

"Always, Mr. Travers."  And with that, the screen flickered off.  Spike turned around slowly, anger building in him.  Giles continued looking at the blank screen, uncomfortable with the deviousness that he was working for.

"So, you see, William.  We can obtain the Key anytime we want."  Quentin cleared his throat before he continued on.  "During our last meeting with Ms. Summers, we found it a humbling experience, being ordered by our own Slayer.  So, we've made drastic adjustments for our next encounter.  Make no mistake; the Watchers' Council is completely in control now.  No matter what Ms. Summers believes."  Spike looked down, not wanting to look at the man that had his back against the wall.

"What do you want?"

"It's simple, really.  Let Rachid run his tests on you.  If you are indeed a male Slayer, you work for us.  If not, you're free to go.  Agreed?"  Spike looked up at Quentin, anger tinting his every word.

"Alright you son of a bitch.  You've got yourself a deal."

_To be continued_


	12. Born Again

Title:  Born Again

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Language)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to The Gift and Dead Things.

Summary:  Twelfth part of Falling into You series.

Status:  Finished (Part XII of ?)

Spike stood at the ready, the goat faced demon with the name of Rachid walking slowly toward him, almost sauntering.  The closer he got, the more uncomfortable Spike felt.  It was as though the demon's eyes were accusing him, its semblance of lips almost smiling.  Spike resisted the urge to step back, allowing Rachid to stand directly in front of him.  After a moment of staring, Spike broke the silence.

"Hullo."  Rachid kept staring.  "Um, Giles?"  Giles' anger abated somewhat upon hearing Spike's voice.  He turned around slowly, his back to the monitor.  That's when he saw the Fakkir demon standing in front of Spike's person.  Giles moved to Spike's side, trying to ease the situation.

"Rachid, say hello to the gentleman."  The creature finally spoke.

"He's no gentleman."  This got Spike's attention.

"Sorry.  Do I know you, mate?"

"No, William.  But I know you."  Before Spike could query the demon, Rachid answered him.  "You and your whore, Drusilla."  There was that name again.  He remembered that name when Doc had told him where his old crypt was, Spike finding the red shirt in the closet.  And, now, in London.  Spike shook off the thought, returning to the present.

"Drusilla?"  To say Rachid looked perturbed would be an understatement.  Were it not for Quentin's intervention, Rachid would have indeed gotten violent.

"No need for melodrama, Rachid.  You'll get your chance."  As Quentin moved his hand down, Rachid slowly stepped back, allowing Spike and Giles some breathing room.  "Drusilla was your sire, William."  And Spike still hated the Watcher for using that name.

"Sire?"  Giles filled in the blanks.

"That's right, Spike.  She turned you into a vampire."  Spike stood there, a bit dumbfounded at the news.  But, why was it so shocking?  Someone had to turn him into a vampire.  Right?  Spike looked back to Rachid, seeing nothing but hatred in his eyes.

"Why do you hate her?"  The question took Rachid by surprise, Spike swearing he could see the demon's eyes flicker in astonishment.  Before Spike could make sure, Rachid composed himself, answering Spike's question.

"You really don't remember, do you?"  Spike shook his head, answering the question truthfully.  Rachid moved closer to Spike, wanting to look him in the eyes as he spoke.  Spike made no indication of moving.  "You and your whore killed my family."  Rachid expected something along the lines of shock or denial to cover Spike's tone.  Unfortunately, Spike surprised him once again.

"Why?"

"Why what?"  Giles moved closer to Spike, unsure of the situation that was now developing in the inner sanctum of the Council.  It was purely instinct, moving to protect Spike if Rachid decided to lash out.  Not once did it register in the Watcher's mind that he was trying to protect a once master vampire and murderer of two Slayers.  However, before Giles could step between the two individuals, Quentin's voice echoed throughout the chamber.

"Leave them be, Rupert.  I promised Rachid the opportunity to speak to his family's executioner."  The words left Spike cold inside.  Executioner.  The words didn't match the way he felt now.  He thought he was a respectable fellow.  He was living with Giles and having a decent time.  He had a job waiting for him back in Sunnydale filing tax returns and going over the books for numerous Sunnydale companies.  He had an apartment that was paid up for the year.  He had a garden that he tended to every night as soon as he got home from work.  And he had a reason to go back to Sunnydale.  Buffy.

But the word could fit him.  After all, he had tried to kill his reason for this foray into the monster's den.  Buffy.  And he had killed Doc without a moment's hesitation.  Spike didn't want to admit it, but he relished the feeling, his hand pushing through Doc's chest as he took the life away from the old man.  And that wasn't the feeling of a normal person.  That was the emotion of a murderer.  A killer.  Spike focused his attention once again to his surroundings, repeating the question for Rachid.

"Why did we kill your family?"

Rachid stood there, not comprehending the question.  After all, why would something as vicious, as uncaring, and as evil as the man standing in front of him care about the why? The demon moved closer, his claws twitching as though out of exasperation.  Finally, he spoke.  "Why?  Because that's what monsters like you and your kind do.  Kill because you can."  Spike shook his head, feeling the turmoil between his former life and his present life tearing him apart inside.  As his eyes focused back on the Fakkir demon, Rachid expounded on his statement.  "Does that answer your question?"  Spike answered truthfully.

"Guess it does, at that."  Giles could see that Spike was having trouble coming to grips with the news that had just been delivered.  But, it was necessary.  Spike wanted his memories back.  The information parted from the Fakkir demon was a part of Spike's memory.  Pleasant or not.  Spike looked over the demon standing in front of him, an awkward air of silence hovering in the room, barring hushed whispers between the Council elders.  Finally, Spike disrupted the silence.  "Won't say I'm sorry.  'Cos you wouldn't believe me, right?"  Spike could swear he saw a slight upturn on the demon's lips, but since they were pincers, it was probably his mind playing tricks on him.  Another short moment of silence before Quentin interrupted it.

"Well, if we're all squared away here?"  Spike turned back to the elder Watcher while Giles stayed by his side, trying to position himself between Rachid and Spike just in case something unseemly was to happen.  The look on Spike's face gave Quentin all the answer he needed.  "Very well then.  You may proceed, Rachid."

Spike turned his attention back to the Fakkir demon, his trepidation of the situation returning.  As Rachid advanced on Spike, his claws began to resonate against the air, causing an audible hum in the chamber.  Before Spike could voice his concern, Giles assuaged his fears.

"He's just preparing for the scan."  Spike looked at Giles as Rachid stopped in front of them, holding his claws to his side, allowing the two to finish their conversation.

"Scan?"  Rachid answered Spike's query.

"It's what my kind specialize at.  We can tell what something is solely by touch."

"Well, so can I."  Spike illustrated his point by touching his nose.  "Sniffer."  Rachid let out a sound that was an amalgamation of a laugh and a high-pitched shriek.  Moments like this, Spike wished he didn't have such good hearing as he flinched at the sound.  After his display of emotion, Rachid expanded on the explanation.

"It's not that simple, monster.  We bond, almost symbiotically; with whatever living organism we come in contact with.  So, in that regard, Fakkir demons essentially become what they are touching."  Spike nodded, somewhat understanding what the demon was trying to get at.  Giles chimed in upon seeing the hint of confusion on Spike's face.

"Essentially, Rachid will be able to figure out what you are after he's done with his scan."  Spike turned to the Watcher, a slight smirk on his face.

"Thanks for the commentary, Rupert."  Giles chuckled softly, members of the Council elders catching the display of emotion.  Quentin, in particular, noted it, before Giles continued on.

"Well, it's part of the job description."  Spike nodded, turning his gaze back to Rachid, who remained motionless in front of him.  Spike had to ask before Rachid proceeded.

"Is this gonna hurt?"  Rachid looked toward the man standing in front of him, his hatred waning but still evident.

"It won't hurt."  Before Spike could respond, Rachid's arms flew from his sides, his claws impaling Spike's chest.  Spike would have screamed if Rachid's sharp digits weren't firmly implanted in his lungs.  Instead, he stood there, looking at the Fakkir demon, his body contorting in pain.  The last thing Spike saw before blacking out was Rachid's hideous eyes gleaming in delight as the word echoed in the distance.  "Much."

He wasn't sure how long he was out, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of a store window.  Spike turned around, looking for something, anything, which seemed familiar.  Unfortunately, his eyes did fall upon something familiar.  Well, someone.

"This isn't the time to be window shopping, lad.  We have to move before the Council finds our location."  Spike couldn't believe his eyes.  After all, the man standing in front of him was dead.  By his own hand, no less.

"Doc?"

"What's wrong with you?  Still shaken up by our escape?"  Spike shook his head, the memory of Doc's attack on the Watcher's Council coming back to him.  To say that Doc was a meticulous tactician would be lying.

Instead, Doc burst through the doors to the holding area where Spike was situated, killed the guards on duty, spoke an incantation that removed the magical barrier that confined Spike in his cage, then tore the bars from the wall frame.  All this while Spike lay barely conscious on the cell floor, trying to recollect where he was and how he had gotten there.  Before Spike knew it, the small elderly man had slung his naked body over his shoulder while charging towards the outer wall of the cell.  Spike didn't register what was going on until he felt the masonry of the wall crumble about his back, the view transforming from one of granite to one of open sky and starlight.

Spike's memory flitted back to the street, his attention turning to Doc once again.  "What the hell are you?"  Doc simply chuckled.  Spike moved away from the store window, memories flitting back into his head.  "And why did you help me back there?"

"Simple, really.  I help you.  You help me.  A little quid pro quo, if you get my meaning."  Spike grumped, his demeanor souring.

"Thanks for the help and all, but last I remember, you threw me off a goddamn tower before you started cutting up one of my favorite girls."  Doc smirked, waiting for Spike to finish his tirade.  "Now, tell me again.  Why should I help you?"

"Because you want the same thing I do."

"And what's that, mate?"

"To put the Council in its place."  Spike looked at the old man, wondering how he linked back to the Council.  "To put the Slayer in her place."  Buffy.  A name from his past.  Something familiar.  Something inviting.  Something that felt right.

"Look, I may be a vampire, but…"  Spike's words trailed off when he realized what he was saying.  It wouldn't have meant much, he being a vampire, were it not for the fact that the sun was out, and he wasn't exploding into a ball of flame.  Out of habit, Spike dove for the nearest cover, pressing his back against the wall of the store.  Spike looked up at the sky, closing his eyes and opening them again, hoping that things would be different.  However, when his eyes opened again, the sun was still out, but now Doc was chuckling hysterically.  "Glad you find this funny."

"Sorry, William.  But it is.  If you could only see yourself."  Doc extended his hand out, his palm upward, the rays of sunlight dancing against him.  "We've been in the sunlight for well over four hours and only now you're realizing the reality of your situation?  I'm sorry, but that is funny.  Indeed."  Spike wanted to deck the old man, but he was right.  He was acting like an infant, hiding in the shadows.

Spike slowly pushed off against the wall, moving to the edge of the shadows.  After contemplating the repercussions of what he was about to do, Spike took a deep breath before stepping out into the once feared sunlight.  The wave of fear and uncertainty was replaced by serenity and comfort as he looked up to the heavens, feeling the heat warm his skin.  Then Spike did something he hadn't for a long time.  He laughed.  Not a condescending, bitter laugh.  But one of joy.  One of happiness.  One of innocence.

"I don't…I don't understand.  How?"  Spike looked back at Doc, seeing a slight smile on his face.

"We've been over this, William.  First you help me with the Watcher's Council."  Doc paused to make sure Spike was comprehending what he was trying to say.  "Then I give you the answers about your resurrection."

Resurrection.  Why did that seem familiar?  Suddenly, the images came back to him.  Of that night in the cemetery.  That dire, sorrowful night.  The night when Willow tried to end the world.  The same night that Spike had prevented her from doing something she'd never be able to come back from.  Unfortunately, it had cost him his unlife in the process.  Spike looked back at Doc, wondering if the madman knew anything at all.  He had to test him.

"Resurrection?  You make it sound like I was dead.  Well, more dead."  Doc smiled as he spoke.

"You were, lad.  The witch did you in."  Doc sighed as he continued.  "But, I guess that was entirely your fault.  After all, when did you start playing the hero?"  Spike threw Doc a distasteful frown.

"Hey.  I ain't no bloody hero.  Just like this world.  That's all!"  A part of Spike believed the words he had just spoken.  However, a small part of him also believed that he was lying.  Leave it to the Slayer and her meddling Scoobies to alter his life like this.  If it wasn't for that damn chip in his head, he would have killed them the first chance he got.  But now?  If the chip was no longer an obstacle, he wasn't sure of the answer to that once simple question.

"Of course.  What was I thinking?  You, a former master vampire, playing the hero.  How utterly ridiculous."  Spike didn't know why the words had bothered him so, but they did nonetheless.  Spike decided to change the topic before his emotions got more confused by the old man's words.

"Back to the main topic, huh?  You won't spill until I help you with the Council and Buffy?"  The chuckle took Spike by surprise.

"Buffy?  Since when are you on a first name basis with the Slayer?"  Spike was about to respond when it finally hit him.  Somewhere along the way, he had stopped calling her Slayer and started calling her by her God given name.  Buffy.  Spike couldn't help but find it funny.  Funny that such little things go by unnoticed until someone points it out.  Because, at that point, it had become second nature.

"Stop avoiding the bloody question.  Why do you want me to help you deal with the Council?  No, wait.  What makes you think I'd even make a difference.  I'm just a vampire."  Doc amended Spike's observation.

"That can stand in direct sunlight.  And that's recently come back from the dead.  Literally."

"Point.  So, I'm not exactly all fangy and grrr anymore.  So what?"  Doc's voice was sullen, yet to the point, as he spoke.

"So, that makes you something other than a vampire.  Something you'd never think of."

"So, why don't you tell me then and let's end all the suspense, eh?"  Doc's face shifted from one of a serious demeanor to a playful one in a matter of seconds.

"Sorry.  First you help me.  Then I help you."  Spike realized that he wasn't going to get the help he needed from the old man, so he spoke his mind.

"No deal then."  Spike folded his arms across his chest, watching the people walking on the sidewalk, the cars moving along the street.  It'd been so long since he'd seen it this close.  Well, in daylight, anyway.  It was funny what some people took for granted.  Spike turned his attention back to Doc, observing that the demon was now angered by Spike's decision.

"I don't understand.  You should hate them as much as I do.  It's not like they tried to help you when you got that chip put in your head.  In fact, the Slayer's been nothing but the bane of your existence."  Doc's voice lowered, but his anger remained.  "The only reason she kept you alive for so long was so she could torture you."

"Oi.  That's enough of that."  Spike moved forward, his hand gripping the old man by the shirt collar.  "No need for name calling."  Doc simply chuckled when he realized the truth.

"My God.  You're in love with her."  Doc enunciated each word perfectly so it would sink in for Spike.  "How.  Utterly.  Pitiful."  Spike gripped the old man's collar tighter, pulling Doc closer to his face.

"Don't care what you think, old man."

"And it seems you've forgotten who you're dealing with, boy.  It was a little over a year ago that I showed you how insignificant you really were when I threw you off that tower."  Spike's retort left Doc speechless.

"Yeah?  Then why'd you go through all that trouble, busting out someone that's, how'd you put it?  Oh yeah.  Insignificant."

Doc's tongue flew from his mouth, pushing against Spike's chest.  Spike staggered backwards while Doc's tongue retracted into his mouth, his hands adjusting his shirt collar as though he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror.  As Spike regained his balance, Doc spoke.

"Well, I see that things aren't going to be the way I thought they would be.  Time to resort to the alternative."  Spike began moving toward the demon, every tendon in his body taut at the image of beating the old man into the ground.

"And what's that?"  Before Spike realized what was happening, Doc's eyes shifted to their dark pools, then the incantation.

"Alieno.  Credo."  Then came the flash of light in front of Spike's face.  Then he was standing on the sidewalk looking at an old man questioningly.

"I'm sorry.  Do I know you?"  Doc smiled as he spoke.

"It's okay, Rocco.  I'm a friend.  I'm here to help."

It was weird, seeing things from his body like this.  He knew now that Doc had cast some sort of spell on him back in London to make him forget his past, but since he was now remembering the past, Spike maintained the façade as he continued to walk with Doc back to his flat.  That much he remembered as he muddled through the memories in his head, observing everything that transpired during his time in London.

"So, you say my name's Rocco?"

"That's right, lad."  Doc reached into his pocket, pulling out an envelope, which he then handed to Spike.  "Here's all you'll need to get into the states."  Spike opened up the envelope, pulling out the small blue book and light green card.  He first examined the card.  On the top read Resident Alien, followed by a name immediately on the bottom.  Spike read it aloud.

"Gaiman comma Rocco."  His eyes moved to the photo accompanying the name.  Sure enough, there was a picture of himself in the small square box, the face in profile.  Looking to the right of the photo, Spike saw the information pertaining to his date of birth, his new alien number, and where he would be entering the United States.  "Los Angeles?  I'm going to Los Angeles?"

"Well, it's just a stopgap between here and your true destination."  Doc spoke softly, almost kindly, as the two men continued down the street.  Spike silently cursed the bastard for playing with his mind as he looked on.

"So, where's that exactly?"

"Sunnydale."

"Come again, mate?"  Spike mused on the question his younger self was asking.  For all intents and purposes, the name sounded rather ridiculous.  Sunnydale?  Nothing particularly sunny about a place that resided on a Hellmouth.  Spike looked on as his head turned, looking at Doc, Doc speaking in turn.

"I agree.  It is a rather peculiar name for a city, but it's a rather unique locale."

"Why's that?"  Doc paused, observing the look on Spike's face.  Apparently, Doc thought he had Spike right where he wanted him.  Unbeknownst to the old man, Spike had already lived this portion of his life and was simply going through a recap.  Spike felt bitter at the fact that all he could do was look on at his past actions when all he wanted to do was to shove the smug bastard's nose up into his brain.  But, that wasn't possible now.  Because the man standing in front of him was already dead.  Doc continued walking, never looking at the man next to him, as he spoke.

"It's the home of the Slayer."

"Slayer?  That the person you want me to meet, right?"

"Something like that.  Yes."  Spike maintained his pace with the old man while wondering how deep this deception went.  "For now, I want to make sure you get to the states safe and sound."  Doc reached into his pocket and fished out a key.  From the look of it, Spike gathered it was a locker key.  Doc tossed the key to Spike, Spike grabbing it out of the air deftly.

"What's this?"

"You'll find everything you need at the airport.  Look for the locker that key goes to."  With that, Doc started walking away from Spike.  To say Spike was confused was an understatement.  Spike called back to the old man, questions surrounding his mind.

"Where are you going?"  Doc never turned back as he continued walking away.

"I have some loose ends to tie up here.  Don't worry.  I'll meet you in California soon enough."  Spike had to ask.

"How will I find you once I get there?"  Doc gently chuckled as his figure disappeared around the corner of the building.

"Don't worry, Rocco.  I'll find you."  And with that, he was gone.  Spike remained in the street, his hand gently gripping the key.  Okay, so what did he know now?  That Doc was responsible for his exit from the Watcher Council as well as his exodus to America.  What else?  Spike shrugged his shoulders as he walked in the opposite direction of Doc.  Maybe the airport would have some clues.  

However, before Spike could think upon that possibility, a bright light surrounded him, Spike shielding his eyes.  After the light subsided, Spike slowly opened his eyes.  Unfortunately, he was no longer standing on the sidewalk in London.  Instead, he was sitting in a chair situated in a room.  By the looks of it, he'd gather it was an office building of some kind.  As Spike's eyes fell upon the intricacies of the room, the door behind him opened, Spike turning his head instinctively.

Through the door walked a man dressed in business attire, a smile on his face and a thin mustache over his lip.  He walked past Spike around the desk that was situated in front of Spike.  After sitting in the more refined chair, the man spoke.

"Hello, Mr. Gaiman.  I hear good things about you from Doctor Ribodeaux."  Spike had no idea of the name but decided to play along.

"Um, Doctor…"  The man gently laughed as he interrupted Spike.

"I'm sorry.  You probably know him as Doc.  Sorry about that.  Keep on forgetting that he rarely uses that name."  Spike awkwardly laughed as he spoke.

"Yeah, right.  Doc."  What did that bastard get him into now?  "So, Mr…"

"Mr. Stevens.  But you can call me Bob.

"Alright.  Bob."  Spike spoke matter of factly.  "So, what am I doing here exactly?"  Spike wasn't ready for the hearty chuckle from the man sitting in front of him.

"Doc said you had a sense of humor."  Spike nodded, a look of uncertainty on his face.  "Well, I'll play along, Mr. Gaiman.  You are here today to interview for a position in accounting."  Accounting?

"Accounting?"

"That's right.  Doc told me that you were very good with numbers."  Sure.  Spike knew the price for a pack of Camels including tax.  Other than that, bugger off.  It wasn't like Spike needed to worry about monetary concerns.  Whatever he needed, he usually had enough money to pay for it.  If he didn't, he'd just pinch the damn thing and call it a day.  As Spike wondered about what Doc had gotten him into, Bob reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a single sheet of paper, holding it out to Spike.  Not knowing what else to do, Spike reluctantly took the sheet from Bob.  "Show me what you got?"

"Excuse me?"  Bob smiled as he spoke.

"What's wrong with that 1040?"  Spike's eyes moved from Bob to the sheet of paper in his hand.  Okay.  How hard could this be?  After all, it was just adding and subtracting with a pinch of multiplication.  Right?

Spike skimmed through the numbers in the right hand column, noticing that the math was correct for each entry.  As far as he was concerned, everything was okay with the document.  It was at this point that Spike thought that he was being made a fool of, and that Doc was enjoying every moment of it.  As Spike was about to admit defeat, his eyes fell upon the name on the document.  That's when it clicked.

"Ms. Diane Allen?"  Spike heard Bob make a sound between a sigh and a thoughtful hum.  He paid it no mind, however, as he went back to the number of dependents listed.  And, sure enough, there it was.  Staring at him in all its glory.  "Number of dependents.  Two."  Bob made that sound again.  Apparently, Spike was on the right track.  "Is she divorced?"

"Don't know.  She didn't list it."  Sure enough, when Spike looked at the document once again, she had left the portion that indicated marital status blank.

"So, the numbers match up but you're not sure if she has children?  Is that the gist of it, Mr. Stevens?"

"Bob."  Spike noticed that the man's smile had grown upon hearing Spike's query.

"Right.  Bob."  After acknowledging the man in front of him as indicated, Spike continued.  "So, what do you do in situations like this?"

"The usual.  Send back a letter stating to fill in the missing portions and refile.  If she fills out separated or divorced, then she's okay.  If she sends back single, then we've got a very careless individual on our hands."  Spike smirked, getting the point.  "I'm impressed, Mr. Gaiman."  Bob rose from his chair, moving around the large marble desk, stopping at the corner to sit on the edge.  "Most applicants usually rack their brains over the numbers, trying to figure out why they came out correct.  But you."  A small chuckle escaped Bob's lips as he continued.  "Hate using this.  But you thought outside the box."  Both men laughed at the description.  "Congratulations, Mr. Gaiman.  You start Monday."  The news startled Spike to the point of honesty.

"But…but what about my handling with numbers?"

"I trust Doc."  Bob extended his hand to Spike, Spike taking it cautiously.  "And you'll learn as you go."

"But I don't have the right credentials."  Another chuckle from Mr. Stevens as he reached back on his desk, pulling out a slip of paper from a manila folder.  He began reading as Spike listened on.

"Says here you got your MBA from Oxford.  Top ten percent of your class no less.  So, I'd say you've got the right credentials, Mr. Gaiman."  Spike eyed him quizzically, Bob handing him the sheet of paper to verify what he had already spoken.  Sure enough, it was all the truth.  Or, as much of the truth as Doc could fabricate.  Right now, it seemed like Doc was his best friend in the world.  So, why didn't Spike remember Doc when he met him in Sunnydale?  "So, should I be preparing a cubicle for you?"  Spike looked up, seeing Bob smiling back at him.

"Yeah.  Sounds like a plan."  Spike rose and shook Bob's hand again.  "See you Monday."

"Good, then.  Monday.  Welcome to Sunnydale Investments, Mr. Gaiman."  Spike smirked as he opened the door.

"You can call me Rocco."  Another soft chuckle from Bob and Spike stepped through the door.  Unfortunately, instead of walking into a hallway or reception area, Spike walked into another flash of bright light.

Spike opened his eyes, but all that entered his vision was blinding white light.  That and the sensation of not being entirely there.  He tried to move his head to look around, but he found that he couldn't.  He tried his other appendages, but those failed him as well.  All he could do is hear the sounds around him.  That and smell.  The fragrance was oddly familiar.  Like the smell of your mother's pot roast after years of absence.  You might not remember the taste.  But the smell always took you back to simpler times.  To more familiar times.  Just like now.

The scent was a mix of chrysanthemums hinted with vanilla.  And a familiar sound surrounded him.  What was that?  Was that leaves blowing in the wind?  Before Spike could ponder on the location he was now in, the voices came.

"Tell me why we should do this?"  The voice was male, and very perturbed by the inflection.  Spike tried to voice his concern, but realized that his voice also failed him.  All he could do was listen on, trying to piece together what had happened him after his reappearance in London.

"He can't kill the Slayer.  If he does, there'll be no chance of stopping him once he gets out."  This voice was female, and more rational by the sound.  And very gentle.  Almost like Buffy.  Almost.  But, why would he want to kill Buffy?  Oh, that's right.  Because Doc mojoed him into believing his lies about the Council and the Slayer.

"You really think Dante will…"  The man didn't have the chance to finish this question, the woman interrupting him with an immediate answer.

"Yes.  If it means going home.  He will."  Spike could hear the sorrow in the woman's voice.  As if it pained her to no end.

"How will altering the spell help aid the Slayer?  For all intents and purposes, you'll be sending a madman back there."  Spike wanted to object.  After all, he had been amenable to Buffy and the Scoobies when he was a vampire.  "It's not like he has the chip to control his impulses anymore."  No chip?  That explained a lot.  Somewhere between dying in the cemetery and coming back in London, he had gotten rid of the damn Initiative leash.  Not that he noticed.  Because he didn't remember it.  Just what Doc and the Eye of Veritas had told him.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you hated William almost as much as Dante."  Wait.  They knew him?  How?  Spike couldn't help but attempt a sigh as he listened on in frustration.

"No, that's not it."  After a moment of silence, the man continued.  "It's just.  Why him?  What did he do to deserve what has been bestowed upon him?"  The woman answered frankly.

"He's saved the world twice.  Three times if you count that Adam debacle."

"I won't.  He tried killing the Slayer for God's sake."  The woman slightly giggled at the man's tone.

"Well, we can't fault him there.  It was in his nature.  The fact that he went against his nature during the Glorificus incident should be an indication that William is a unique individual."  The man spoke, a hint of anger in his voice.

"But he did that for a woman."  The woman chimed in, correcting her male companion.

"No.  He did it for love."

"You call that love?"

"Yes.  Any proof of that should have been evident when he gave his life to close the gates."  Spike waited for the typical counterpoint from the male, but found that none came.  Only a deep sigh coupled with a groan.  Then the voice.

"You honestly think he won't go back to his old ways once we send him back?"

"No, I don't.  He's had his chance in the past to kill her and didn't.  He won't now.  Not with so much on the line."  Another sigh from the man.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Haruna."  Spike heard the sound again.  This time it was more audible.  It sounded like fluttering.  Like a flock of birds flying overhead.  Then a tingling sensation surrounded Spike's body.  The pain flooded all of Spike's senses, drowning out everything around him.  The last thing he heard before fainting was the woman's voice.  Haruna's voice.

"For all our sakes, Gabriel.  I hope so too."

Spike found himself falling down, his arms splaying out to brace himself.  For some reason, he thought the fall would have been of a greater distance.  But, instead, Spike found himself hitting the ground as soon as he felt the sensation of freefall.  Then the voice.

"Spike?  Are you okay?"  Spike opened his eyes slowly to find Giles standing in his field of view.  Spike looked around quickly, noticing that he was still in the Watcher's Council inner sanctum.

"Rupert?"  Giles bent down, grabbing Spike's arm and helping him up.  "What's going on?"

"Wait.  We need someone to look at those wounds."  Wounds?  Spike followed Giles' line of sight to his chest.  The sight was one that quickly brought him back to the present.  Two deep gash wounds covered Spike's chest, the anger quickly entering him once again.  Spike looked around, expecting Rachid to be smiling smugly at the violence he had inflicted to Spike.  Instead, he saw Rachid kneeling on the ground, his claw gently massaging his temple.  If Spike was guessing correctly, Rachid looked like he was in more pain than Spike was at the moment.  Actually, Spike didn't feel that weak, gently pushing away from Giles' grasp.

"S'alright, Rupert.  Think I'm okay."

"You're bloody well not.  Rachid impaled you, for God's sake."  Spike decided to alleviate the Watcher's concern.

"But I'm feeling better."  Giles smirked at Spike, allowing him his space.  Spike asked the obvious question.  "How long was I out?"  Quentin's voice chimed in from the end of the chamber.

"A few seconds."  Quentin looked at his watch, looking for a more accurate answer.  "Seven, to be more precise."  Seven seconds?  Spike couldn't believe what he was hearing.  The past few months had just flashed through his mind, and all it was worth was seven seconds?  And what the hell was that last moment?  He tried to remember the incident, but it was quickly fading from his mind, almost like a dream.  But the woman's name remained on the tip of his tongue.  Haruna.

Giles inspected Spike's wounds, seeing that the shirt he had loaned Spike was torn to pieces, what remnants remaining on Spike's body matted in his blood.  It was undeniable.  Giles wasn't getting his favorite shirt back.  The Watcher put the thought to the back of his head, moving his mind back to Spike's well being.

"Are you sure you don't need any medical attention?"  Spike shook his head, gliding his hand across the portion of his now exposed chest, indicating that the wound was indeed superficial.  But, that couldn't be true.  Giles and all of the elders saw Rachid basically skewer Spike with his claws before he began the scan.  Spike nodded at the Watcher, his gaze moving back to the Fakkir demon that was still kneeling on the ground.  Spike began to make his way to Rachid, intending to return the favor that the Fakkir demon had seen fit to give to his chest.  Sure, he could scan by touch.  But impaling one's person went way beyond professional.  However, before Spike got within a few feet of the demon, Rachid howled maniacally, pulling himself along the ground to stay away from Spike.

"Stay away from me!"  Okay.  That wasn't the reaction Spike was expecting.  Giles moved closer to Rachid, once again placing his body between Spike and Rachid, this time worrying for Rachid more than Spike.

"What's wrong, Rachid?"  Giles noted that Rachid relaxed a bit when Giles moved closer to him.  That was a good sign that the demon hadn't completely lost his mind.  "Tell me what's wrong."  The whispers among the elders intensified upon seeing Rachid's outburst.

"Too much.  Too much."  Giles didn't understand what Rachid was babbling about.

"Too much what, Rachid?"  Rachid began to sound coherent, but his eyes never left Spike.

"Too many sensations.  Too many unknowns."  Quentin's voice echoed through the chamber, no hint of compassion in it.

"Rachid.  Is Spike the male Slayer incarnate?"  Giles turned back to Quentin, a look of distaste mixed with hatred being shot at the head Watcher.  Unfortunately, Quentin didn't pick up on the look.  Or, he didn't really care what Giles thought about him.  All Quentin wanted at the moment was the answer to his question.  "Rachid?  Did you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Good.  So, what's the answer, Rachid?"  The Fakkir demon groaned in pain as he spoke.

"Not a Slayer."  Quentin couldn't believe the demon's words.

"Are you sure, Rachid?"  Quentin got the same response.

"Not a Slayer."  Giles tried to help Rachid to his feet, but he refused the Watcher's hand, finally getting up of his own recognizance.  Once on his feet, Rachid looked at Spike, a hint of anger and fear in his voice.  "What the hell are you?!?"  Spike's smirk hid the uncertainty now clouding his mind.

"Not a vampire.  That's for certain."  Spike's head dropped to the ground, not wanting to look at Rachid.  "What did you do to me?  I can feel my memories coming back to me."  And they were.  Everything.  From Drusilla turning him to his first Slayer to his last.  Rachid spoke, anger now replaced with only fear.

"Interrupted the spell that hindered your memory."  That sounded right.  After all, Spike did see Doc place some type of spell over him right after they made their way from the Council.  Spike needed to make sure what Rachid was saying was correct.

"Interrupted?"  The anger and anxiety essentially disappeared from Rachid's voice.  But, even though his voice was calm now, Spike could still hear the fear in it.

"My scan disrupted the spell placed by Doc."  Well, that was all the confirmation Spike needed.  Now he had to make sure everything was squared away between himself and the Council.  Spike turned back to the Council elders, eyeing the gallery of people before fixing his gaze on Quentin.

"I'm not a Slayer.  So, I'm going now."  Spike turned his back on the elders, walking toward Giles.  However, Quentin's anger tinted voice stopped him in his tracks.

"You're not going anywhere, William.  We still have young Dawn Summers under our watch.  We can take her whenever we want."  Giles looked at Quentin in shock.  That wasn't the deal the two men had agreed upon earlier.  If Spike were a Slayer, then he would stay.  But Rachid didn't know what Spike was, so he had no reason to stay for the Council.  And now he was being blackmailed with the one thing that would possibly change Spike's mind.

"That wasn't the deal, Quentin."  Quentin looked back to Giles, his vexation growing for the Watcher with a conscience.

"It doesn't matter, Rupert.  William may not be a Slayer.  But he's also something that has Rachid trembling in fear."  Quentin motioned to the Fakkir demon to the side of the chamber, which was still maintaining his distance from Spike.  Spike knew that it was a gambit, but it was the only thing better than working for these bastards.

"That's right, mate.  I'm something else.  I may not know yet."  Spike paused, walking back toward the elders in their seats.  "But I will eventually.  And I'm sure, based on your mind screwing demon's reaction over there, I'm something worse than a Slayer."  Spike folded his arms across his chest, now realizing that Giles' shirt was in tatters.  He'd have to rectify that later.  It was the least he could do.  After all, Giles did treat him right since they arrived in London.  Even before, in Sunnydale, Giles had tried to do the best he could for his sake as well as Buffy's.  The least he could do was buy the man a new shirt.

Spike spoke once again, making sure his voice sounded more confident than he felt at the moment.  "So, I'm guessing you're gonna want to be on my good side.  Who knows?  I might remember this next decision as either a very generous favor."  Spike looked over the elders once again before fixing his gaze on Quentin once again.  "Or, the decision that buggered the Watcher's Council."  Quentin's adam apple could be seen working in the man's throat, giving Spike hope that his little act was working.  Time to punctuate this little play.  "Your move, Quentin."

Giles moved back to Spike's side, whispering to him as the elders spoke amongst themselves.  "What are you doing, Spike?"  Spike never looked at Giles as he spoke.

"Playing chicken.  Now, let's see who flinches first."  Giles nodded his head, both men standing side by side, looking at the elders.  Finally, the murmurs quieted, Quentin looking at the two men standing in front of him.  "So, what's the verdict, Quentin?"  A quick sigh emanated from the Watcher's lips before he spoke to the two men.

"You're free to go, William.  But, only on one condition."  The man had big ones.  Spike had to give him that.

"Yeah?  Well, spit it out."

"Giles becomes your Watcher."  Spike and Giles looked at one another, an air of confusion consuming both men.  Giles was the first to speak.

"But, why?  Spike isn't a Slayer."  Quentin answered the question frankly.

"That may be true.  But he's still an unknown variable.  The Council would rather observe and maintain William instead of risking him becoming an even greater danger than when he was a vampire."  Spike finally understood what the elders were getting at.

"Oh.  That's it, eh?  I'm not a Slayer, but might as well treat me like one.  Innit right?"  Quentin nodded acknowledgment.  "Okay.  Say I play along.  You stop monitoring the bit and get your men out of Sunnydale."  Spike didn't mean it to be a question.

"If that's what it'll take, William.  Then, yes.  We can agree to those terms."  Spike nodded, giving Giles a small smirk.  Apparently, Spike's gambit paid off.  But, he had to make sure.

"I mean it, Quentin.  Any hint of your men around Dawn, and the deal's off.  And I don't think the Slayer's going to be as forgiving as I am once she finds out you reneged on the deal."  This last statement caught Quentin by surprise.

"You're not going to tell her?"

"Why would I?  I'd be a liar if I did.  By the time I told her, your men would be long gone, right?"  Quentin nodded, a small smile on his face.  Spike turned to Giles.  "I think we're done here, Rupert.  Feel like dinner?"  Giles smiled as the two men turned to walk to the chamber doors.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"I'm thinking Cantonese.  What do you think?"  Giles smirked at Spike as he spoke.

"I can do Cantonese."  As the two men reached the doors to the chamber, Quentin called after them.

"William."  Spike and Giles turned around slowly, wondering what the elder could possibly want now.  "Since we're in such an amiable relationship now, I think you'd like to know how and where we found you when you came back."  Honestly, the thought hadn't even crossed Spike's mind.  He just assumed that he was placed back in London by Dawn's whims and just left it at that.  But there was a specific location.  Spike decided to listen to what Quentin had to say.

"Okay.  How and where exactly, then?"  The answer was the last thing Spike expected.

Buffy was glad to leave the bank for her lunch break.  Unfortunately, her lunch break wasn't at noon.  If it were, she would have gone to the hospital with Tara to pick up Willow.  But her lunch break was at two in the afternoon.  So, all she could do was wait until later to meet up with Willow and the rest of the gang.  Hopefully, Tara was more than enough company for Willow right about now.  However, Buffy didn't want to think about that right now.  The only thing on Buffy's mind was getting some food into her stomach.  Sure, she might be the Slayer, but this work thing had a way to take it out of her.

She rounded the corner, wondering what she wanted for lunch when she walked past Georgio's.  The restaurant brought back memories of that fateful night.  The same night that Spike came back into her life.  And now, he was half a world away, trying to get his memories back.  Hopefully, once he got the answers he needed, he'd come home.  Back to Sunnydale.  Back to her.  But, before she could ponder the possibility, a familiar voice stirred her from the memory.

"Hey, Buff.  Whatcha up to?"  Buffy looked across the patio area to see Xander and Anya sitting under at one of the tables, a large umbrella akin to a beach umbrella shading them from the sun.  Buffy walked over to her friends, pulling a chair out to sit down.  Once situated, Buffy answered Xander's question.

"Just on break.  Looking for some sustenance."  Buffy eyed her friends curiously.  Georgio's was on the other side of town from Xander's latest site and Anya never left the shop for lunch.  Something was definitely up.  "So, what's up with you guys?  Spontaneous lunch?"  Anya looked at Xander, trying to contain her smile.  Unbeknownst to Buffy, Anya had finally managed to convince Xander to take a sick day.  Anya was initially shocked that Xander took so much convincing, but once she did, Xander was all hers.

"Actually, we didn't go to our perspective works today."  Buffy began to smile, realizing what was going on.  She noticed they were more happy than usual.  Now she knew why.

"Oh.  But what about the shop, Anya?"

"It can get by without money for one day."  Buffy's jaw would have hit the table if it weren't for the fact that it was connected to her skull.  She turned to Xander to verify the truth in Anya's words.

"Yeah, Buff.  We're playing hooky."  Buffy gently chuckled as she spoke.

"Wow.  Maybe I should take a lesson from you guys.  But, I've already taken the Friday off so we can make the final preparations for the big day."  Buffy couldn't believe how fast the time had gone.  It felt like almost yesterday when Anya joined the group, becoming Xander's girlfriend.  Now, they were about to become husband and wife in a few days.  It was a fact.  They had all grown up, their childhood far behind them now.  Buffy decided to change the topic before she got too contemplative about her life.  "So, what did you guys do with your day off?"  Anya answered immediately.

"We had lots of sex."  Xander sheepishly grinned as Buffy envied her friends.  They were happy while she was miserable.  Well, not miserable.  She was happy.  Happy that things were going well with Dawn and herself.  That she was able to maintain a steady job and support the household.  That Willow was awake and healthy.  That her friends were getting married.  But, as always, her mind went back to Spike.  It was frustrating, waiting for him.  But she had promised him that morning in front of her house that she'd wait for him.  Till the end of the world.

Xander chimed in, interrupting Buffy's train of thought as well as Anya's tirade.  "We also stopped by the hospital to see Willow.  She looks good."  Anya turned to Xander, a hint of jealousy evident in her look.  "Um, healthy."  Anya moved her gaze back to her drink, Xander continuing.  "Tara took off the rest of the day from classes.  She and Willow are gonna get reacquainted, I guess.  They were making those puppy dog eyes at each other at the hospital."  Buffy sighed.  She was happy for Tara and Willow, but it felt like Buffy was the only one that had relationship issues.  Sure, my boyfriend's back, but he doesn't trust me.  He doesn't love me.  Buffy spoke before she ended up depressing herself.

"So, are we still on for tonight?  It's Willow's big day, after all."  Xander answered while Anya motioned the waiter over.

"Definitely.  It'll be like old times.  All of us, a happy group of Scoobies."  All but one, Buffy instinctively thought to herself.  But, then again, Spike was never really a part of the group.  Buffy decided to stop thinking about the future and focus on the present.  The present was a more joyous moment in time than what the future might hold.  The waiter finally moved over to the table, taking each person's lunch order.  Once the waiter moved back into the building, Buffy spoke.

"So, I'm thinking the Bronze.  What do you guys think?"  Anya responded.

"That sounds nice.  Give me a chance to practice my dance moves for the wedding."  Buffy smiled at the comment.

"Practice?"  Xander chimed in.

"That's right.  Anya may be the encyclopedia when it comes to all things demonic, but she's got two left feet."  Anya gently smacked Xander on the shoulder, Xander feinting injury.  Buffy smiled, enjoying the moment.  These were a rarity in her life.  She was going to enjoy each and every one, God help her.

Willow sat on the bed, looking at the surroundings.  Tara hadn't changed much.  There was a new stuffed kitty on the bed, but other than that, things had remained the same.  But that wasn't true.  Things were different now.  She knew that she'd have to earn the trust of her friends after what she had done.  She had almost killed Dawn.  She was responsible for Spike's current situation, although she was still unsure of what had transpired on that front.  She would have to talk to Buffy about that, later.  But Willow was sure of one thing.  Amy was dead because of her.  And there was nothing she could do to bring her back.

Well, she could use the magicks she had acquired and attempt to bring Amy back to the living, but she risked the danger of unleashing the dark energy that had once consumed her.  Making her irrational.  Making her dangerous.  Willow wouldn't risk it.  Not now.  Not when things were so fragile between her and her friends.  As the thoughts swirled through Willow's mind, the bedroom door swung open, Tara entering the room.  Willow looked up, gently smiled, Tara returning it in kind.

"So, how are you feeling, Willow?"

"I'm good.  Just a little tired.  But good."  Tara sat next to Willow on the bed, handing the cup of tea to Willow.  Willow graciously accepted the beverage, taking a small sip, holding the cup in both hands.  Tara spoke as Willow brought the cup to rest on her lap.

"Is there anything you need?  Something to eat, maybe?"  Willow nodded, her eyes focused on the cup in her hands.  "Okay.  I'm home for the rest of the day, so if you need anything, just let me know.  Okay?"  Tara could see Willow's lips curve upward slightly even though her eyes still remained tired.  A moment of silence hovered in the room until Willow spoke.

"What happened to Amy?"

Tara fumbled for words, the question taking her by surprise.  "You mean, where was she buried?"  Willow finally looked up from the cup, her gaze locking with Tara's.

"No.  I mean, what happened that night?  I don't remember."

"Willow…"

"No, Tara.  I need to know."  Willow could feel herself on the verge of tears.  "Please."  Tara nodded, understanding the pain behind Willow's eyes.  Tara told her the truth.

"Drusilla was holding Dawn hostage, so Spike grabbed Amy and tried to make a trade.  But, it didn't work.  I guess Spike's yells were disrupting your concentration on the spell to open the hellgate, because you released some magic at Spike.  Spike moved out of the way in time.  Amy didn't."

Willow's hands began to tremble, the cup clashing against the saucer.  Before any liquid could spill out of the cup, Willow placed the cup on the floor, her hands now clenched about each other.  Tara tried to offer solace by soothing Willow's back, but Willow simply jerked away from her friend's touch.  Tara eased back, allowing Willow enough room to gather her thoughts, but stayed close enough so she'd be able to comfort Willow if she needed it.  After an awkward silence, Willow spoke.

"Where is she?"  Tara didn't understand the question until Willow clarified.  "Amy.  Where is she buried?"  Tara didn't know if Willow was ready for such an emotional burden.

"Honey…"  Willow interrupted Tara's sympathetic segue.

"No, Tara.  I need to see her."  Willow turned to Tara so she could see her eyes.  The seriousness of the situation.  "I need to see her."  Tara nodded, understanding the pain that hovered in Willow's eyes.  So, she said the only thing she could, given the situation.

"Grab your coat."

Willow didn't know how long it took to get to the cemetery, but the surroundings looked familiar.  Almost to the point of déjà vu.  Tara stayed close to Willow's side, allowing her space.  However, this wasn't how Tara envisioned Willow's first day back.  She thought that the day would be spent talking about what had happened since Willow fell into her coma.  Then the gang would get together to celebrate her return.  But things were far from pleasant right now.  Instead, they were tense and awkward.  But Tara understood.  Willow needed this.  She needed to face her past.  To face her demons.

After a few moments of silence between the two friends, Tara's pace began to slow, Willow's eyes falling upon the headstone.  Tara stopped walking, Willow still advancing toward the grave.

"Honey?"  Willow ignored Tara's concern, her eyes still not registering what she was looking at.  Willow tried to read the words aloud, as though they would change if she said them, but found her voice failing her.  Instead, Willow dropped to her knees, her fingers digging into the dirt.  As the tears slowly trickled down her face, Willow felt a hand gently squeezing her shoulder.  "Willow?"

"I did this."  Tara didn't understand the statement.  "Amy's…Amy's dead.  Because of me."  Willow's sobs came stronger now once the realization of the situation hit her.  She was kneeling in front of Amy's tomb, and she was the reason Amy was there in the first place.  Willow knew that she didn't deserve to live while Amy lay in the ground.  She should have died that night as well.  That's when it hit her.  "Is this…"

Tara answered Willow's unfinished question.  "This is where it happened.  This is where the gate was opened."

"Why here?"  Tara kneeled down next to Willow, looking forward toward the tombstone.

"We all thought it'd be a constant reminder of how close we came to losing everything."  Tara turned to Willow, Willow already looking at her questioningly, tears still flowing freely.  "And everything we lost."  Willow bowed her head, as if in shame, as she spoke.

"I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry."  Tara wrapped her arms around Willow's shoulders, gently pulling Willow closer to her.  Tara thought that Willow would pull away again.  Instead, Willow brought herself closer to Tara, her sobs stifled against Tara's shoulder.  "I'm sorry, Amy.  I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."  Tara gently smoothed her hand against Willow's hair, trying to soothe Willow's sorrow.  "Please forgive me.  Please."

Tara gently rocked Willow in her arms, not knowing what to say at the moment.  So, she did the only thing she could.  She held on to Willow as tightly as she could.  And she never let go.

The car pulled up to the Summers' house, Anya getting out of the passenger side.  Xander followed close behind, holding two paper bags in his arms.  It was evident that the couple had enjoyed their day together by the amount of shopping bags in the back seat.  While Xander was at first adamant about spending too much money at the eve of the wedding, Anya had enticed Xander by picking out numerous sheer negligees from one of those classy women's wear stores.  However, those weren't in the bags that Xander currently held in his arms.  Instead, Xander brought a variety of snacks and beverages for the big get together.  While it was still a bit early, the couple had decided on having some quality time with Willow, Tara and Dawn before Buffy got home.

Anya knocked on the door, Xander standing next to his fiancée, the bags beginning to feel their weight.  No answer.  Another knock followed by another moment of silence.  Both gave each other a worried look, but before they could contemplate the ramifications of an empty house, the door opened.

"Hey guys."  Dawn stepped away from the doorframe, allowing Anya and Xander to come inside.  "Have you seen Willow or Tara?"  The moment of relief quickly subsided when they realized what Dawn was asking them.  Anya was the first one to speak.

"They're not home, Dawn?"

"Nuh uh.  When I came home from school, the house was empty.  I thought they might have gone out with you guys."  Xander put the bags down on the side table, his brow furrowed.

"You're sure they're not home, Dawnster?"  Dawn could feel the restlessness in both Xander and Anya now.

"Yeah.  The only thing I found was a cup of tea in Tara's room.  That's all."  Xander didn't want to voice his concern, but given the fact of what had transpired between Willow and the rest of the group in the cemetery, he felt he had no other choice but to accept the likelihood.

"We should call Buffy."  Anya spoke, trying to reason with her fiancé.

"She'll be home soon.  Let's just wait before we start accusing Willow."  Dawn didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Accuse her of what?"  Xander sighed, looking at Dawn as he spoke.

"Dawn.  We have to consider the chance that Willow might have done something to Tara."

"No.  I can't believe that, Xander.  She'd never hurt Tara."  Dawn honestly couldn't believe what Xander was proposing.  Willow was one of them.  She wouldn't do anything bad.  Not now.  Would she?

"Dawn.  We have to at least consider the possibility."  Anya moved closer to Dawn, gently squeezing Dawn's arm.

"He's right, Dawn.  As much as I hate to admit it, Willow might not entirely be herself right now."  Before Dawn could respond with a counterpoint, the door opened behind them.  The group instinctively turned to the opening door to see Tara stepping into the house, a solemn look on her face.  Dawn moved to Tara, wrapping her arms around her friend.  Tara stepped back with the momentum, a little surprised at the welcome.

"Hey, Dawnie.  What's wrong?"  Dawn gently laughed at the question.

"Funny.  I was about to ask you the same thing."  Xander moved to the door, closing it behind Tara as he spoke.

"Yeah.  Are you okay, Tara?  And where's Willow?"

Tara slowly moved away from Dawn, facing Xander and Anya.  "She's with Amy right now."  The meaning of her words left the group almost speechless.  Anya was the first one to break the silence.

"Was that a good idea?  Leaving her alone?"  Tara answered frankly.

"She asked me to.  She wanted to spend some time with Amy."  Xander spoke, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"So, is she coming home soon?  I thought this was supposed to be her big night back with the gang."  Tara shook her head, unsure if Willow would be home anytime soon.  But, she knew it was right.  Willow needed time to heal.  The best way to do that was to face her past mistakes head on.

While it was only three hours since she left Xander and Anya at Georgio's to go back to the bank, it felt like an eternity for those three hours to tick by so she could get off work and go home.  Home.  That word meant so much now during the last few months.  It was her only solace after that grim night in the cemetery.  If it weren't for her home and her family, she most likely wouldn't have survived the initial weeks without him.  Without Spike.

Buffy walked down the sidewalk, taking her new path home.  Well, it wasn't really a path home.  It was to Spike's apartment.  She had made a promise to Spike when he went to London.  To take care of his flowers.  And, so far, she hadn't reneged on it.  Every night after work, she went to his place to tend to his flowers.  That's how she reasoned it to herself.  She only went there to take care of his flowers.  But that was a lie.  She enjoyed being there.  Being surrounded by Spike's things made her feel comfortable.  Safe.  Like he wasn't really gone.

Buffy gently laughed at herself.  Not even a year ago she was telling Spike how much she hated him.  How much she wanted him to leave.  And now, he finally took her up on the offer.  He was half a world away, and she missed him so much that it hurt to think about him.

Their last words to one another remained with her.  It was almost a death knell, remembering that moment.  Buffy had told Spike that she missed him.  And how did Spike respond?  With an equal statement?  No.  Instead, he just said good night.  But Buffy couldn't blame him for his current dilemma.  His memory loss coupled with Doc's segments of the truth had caused Spike to second guess his feelings for those around him.  Especially Buffy.

She pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the surroundings.  When she had first become the Slayer, she had feared and loathed the cemetery.  But, now, after everything she had been through in her years of fighting the undead, the cemetery had become more of a refuge than anything else.  It may sound odd to someone not familiar with her life, but it made complete sense to her.  It was her battleground.  It was the one place where she could truly be herself without restraint.  Be a warrior.

But the cemetery had eventually become another safe haven for her.  It also allowed her to be a woman.  Spike allowed her to be a woman.  Buffy gently smiled at the moments of passion she had shared with Spike in his crypt those many months ago.  But those weren't the only moments she held precious.  She never admitted it to Spike.  In fact, she didn't admit it to herself until he was gone.  But the moments she enjoyed the most with Spike was post coitus.  When all their bravado and false pretenses fell to the wayside, each acting as they truly felt.

Her mind automatically shifted to their conversation about redecorating each other's room.  Buffy couldn't help but smile at the thought, Spike acting like a boyfriend, nuzzling against her after their lovemaking.  It felt right, calling it that.  Because Buffy finally realized that even though each other's intentions were somewhat selfish, they were both there for the same reason.  Because they both felt something only the other could give.  As Buffy's mind continued to replay that moment from the past, a voice stirred her.

"Buffy?"  Buffy quickly came to her senses, her eyes surveying the area.  When they came across the source of the voice, Buffy couldn't believe where it had come from.

"Willow?"  Buffy walked over to Willow, who was standing in front of a tombstone.  It took only a moment before Buffy realized where she was.  "So, I see you found her."  Willow nodded, looking back at Amy's grave.

"Tara didn't want me to come here, but I needed to see her."  Buffy nodded, understanding what her friend was going through.  She had done the same thing when she thought Spike had died.  While he was gone, it brought Buffy comfort speaking to him in the cemetery.  She could only imagine that was what Willow was experiencing at this moment in time.

"So, did it help?"  Willow turned to Buffy, a questioning look on her face.  "Seeing her, I mean."

"Oh."  Willow sighed before continuing.  "Kind of.  It's almost cathartic, standing here.  Realizing what I did."  Buffy interrupted her friend before she went on another guilt trip.

"It wasn't your fault, Will.  It was the magic."

"Yeah, but I chose to use it.  It's not like the magic said, 'Oooh, use me.  I'm good for you.'"  Buffy frowned upon hearing her friend's words.  A moment of silence existed until Buffy finally spoke.

"You see that tombstone over there?"  Willow followed Buffy's finger, seeing the shattered remnants of a headstone lying on the ground.

"Yeah."

"That was Spike's headstone.  When he died."  Willow hung her head in shame.  Hearing the pain in Buffy's voice as she recollected that moment was all the proof Willow needed to convince herself that her friend had genuine feelings for the vampire.  Or, whatever he was now.  Tara hadn't been clear on Spike's resurrection.  The only thing Willow knew was that Spike was in London looking for answers.  Willow asked the obvious question.

"What happened to it?"  Buffy's voice was a mix of sorrow and forgiveness.

"Spike threw me through it while he was trying to kill me."  Willow's countenance went from one of curiosity to one of shock almost instantaneously.

"What?"  Buffy gently chuckled before speaking.

"It's…it's a long story.  But, the main thing is, even though he wanted to kill me, he didn't mean it."

"How can you say that, Buffy?"  Buffy answered truthfully.

"Because I love him."  Her eyes met Willow's, the truth evident in her eyes.  "Just like I love you, Will.  No matter what happens, I'm always going to love you.  Never doubt that."  Willow looked down at the ground, a small smile playing on her lips.

"You're such a sap.  You know that, Buffy?"  Buffy gently chuckled.

"Yeah, I know.  But I meant every word."

"I know, Buffy."  Willow wrapped her arms about her chest, feeling the cold permeating the night air.  "Buffy?"

"Yeah, Will?"

"I love you too."  Buffy gently smiled as she spoke.

"I know."  Both women looked at one another, sharing a gentle smile.  After a moment, Buffy spoke.  "Hey, what's say we get out of here?"

"I'm all for that."

"Good.  But I got to make a quick stop.  Promised Spike that'd I'd water his flowers until he got back."  Willow was sure she didn't understand the words that Buffy had just spoken.

"Spike has flowers in his crypt?"  Buffy gently chuckled, trying to explain the situation.

"Yes, Spike has flowers.  And, no.  Not in the crypt.  Believe it or not, but Spike has an apartment."

"Really?"

"Really."  Buffy smiled at her friend as they continued through the cemetery.  "I'll fill you in on what you've missed."  As an afterthought, Buffy had to ask her friend.  "Hey, Will?  You ever tried a Squishie?"  Willow awkwardly smiled, not entirely understanding her friend's question.

The door slowly opened, the early morning rays bathing the room in sunlight.  Spike stepped through the door, Giles following right behind him.  While it had been a long night at the Council, both had agreed that the sooner Spike saw this place, the sooner Spike would regain a piece of himself.  As Spike moved into the abandoned living room, Giles spoke.

"So, this is it?"  Spike nodded, not looking back at Giles.

"Yep.  This is it."  Giles nodded, closing the door behind him as he moved further into the dilapidated house.  Giles looked around, wondering what secrets the house held.  And what memories would be regained from Spike's being here.  Spike turned around, facing the Watcher.  "This was my home.  This was where I was born."

"Kind of fitting."  Spike shot Giles a quizzical look.  "Dawn bringing you back here, that is."  Spike nodded, agreeing with the Watcher.

"I guess.  Almost like I was given a second chance."  Giles went for the obvious.

"Like you were born again."  Spike chuckled at the reference.

"That's one way to look at it."  Spike's gaze fell upon the remnants of his past life.  It wasn't a bad life.  He was sure if things had gone differently that night in the parlor, Spike would have lived out his life during his time.  But, if that had happened, he would have never experienced all the things he had experienced with Drusilla.  Never seen the different aspects of the world.  Never met Buffy.  Giles' voice interrupted Spike's current train of thought.

"So, Doc's translation said that you'd show up here.  It's a shame we don't know why here.  Why Dawn."  Spike nodded.

"Yeah.  Only bastard that possibly had those answers, I had to shove my hand through his chest."  Both men chuckled at the memory.  Giles couldn't resist.

"Yes.  But it couldn't have happened to a nicer fellow."  Spike's chucked turned into a deep bellow.  After the laughter subsided, Giles asked the obvious question.  "So, what now?"

"What's that?"

"Where do we go from here?"  Spike smirked at the Watcher, taking comfort in the fact that Giles was sticking with him even though he really didn't have a reason to.  It made Spike feel somewhat better, knowing that there was someone watching out for him.  After a moment of contemplation, Spike realized what had to be done.  He turned to Giles, a slight smirk on his face as he spoke.

"We've gotten all we're gonna get here.  I guess it's time to go home."

To be continued 


	13. With this Ring...

Title:  With this Ring…

Author:  Spike Speigel

E-mail:  spikespeigel26@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 (Language)

Classification:  Buffy/Spike

Disclaimer: As usual, these characters don't belong to me because I don't have the imagination to even touch Mr. Whedon's.

Spoilers:  Possible spoilers from the net indicating Willow's the Big Bad.  Anything's fair game from season six so far.  Special consideration to The Gift, Hell's Bells.

Summary:  Thirteenth part of Falling into You series.

Status:  Finished (Part XIII of XIII)

The man was an ordinary man.  He was a middle aged individual, divorced for close to nine years.  She had taken everything, including the children.  While most fathers would have fought for their children, he didn't put up a fight.  Instead, Ray Crichton decided that his boys were better off with their mother.  After all, he hadn't done anything for them ever since they came into the world.  Sure, he loved them, but he never did anything substantial for them.

Sure, he provided for them when he was employed.  But once the military began cutting their independent contracts back in the eighties under the Reagan era, Ray found himself out of a job.  So, his wife; no, ex wife had to get another job just to sustain the family while Ray looked for other employment.  Unfortunately, work for a mechanical engineer with twelve years working experience didn't go as far as Ray thought it should have.  Of course there were jobs available, but not for him.  He was being beat out by candidates that were younger, that were well versed in the latest technologies and knowledge in the area, that were not him.

But his wife never gave up on him.  She was able to take care of the family while Ray kept on plugging away, taking whatever work he could find to pitch in for his wife and his boys.  However, Ray was just a man.  And the frustration eventually set in.  What kind of husband was he?  His wife was the provider, not him.  And what of his boys?  He could see the look in their eyes.  There was no mistaking that look.  They no longer had the respect they once did.  Their old man was a failure.  A loser.  So, Ray did what any typical man would do in that situation.  He gave up.

First it was a drink in the morning to calm his nerves.  Then it was two.  Then it was drinks in the morning and night.  Finally it came to a point that the days began blurring into one another.  His wife noticed his problem, but she noticed too late.  The man that was once her husband was no longer there.  Instead, all that remained was a shell of the man she had fallen in love with.  Any proof she needed for that fact was provided to her when Ray raised his hand to her.

And that was why Ray let what meant the world to him to walk away from his life.  He was no longer the man that his wife had kissed under a full moon in the rain when he stood outside her window, calling out to her as her parents slept soundly in the next room.  He wasn't the same father that had once taught his sons how to ride a bike, how to throw a curveball, and how to tie a tie.  Instead, he was a hopeless drunk.  An angry drunk.  A man that had given up on the people that loved him.  That's why he let his family walk away from him.

His wife had wanted to give the marriage a second chance, but Ray wouldn't even contemplate the idea.  He knew there was no going back.  No, that's not right.  There was a small chance to be a happy family again.  But, then again, there was also that small chance that he'd raise his hand to his wife again.  Maybe even his boys.  He couldn't risk that.  So, he walked away, trying to piece together a semblance of a new life.

And that's how he found himself in Texas.  It wasn't a great job, but being the manager of a local oilfield paid enough for him to live a comfortable life.  And his skills from his former life came into play once in a while.  Well, the management part anyway.  And he rarely turned to the bottle anymore.  He had fallen off the wagon from time to time, but he was clean for seven months now.  Much longer than his last stint of three.

But, he sure wanted a drink right about now.  Something, anything to keep his eyes from falling close.  The latest fiduciary reports for the last quarter weren't as high as the investors had thought they should be.  That was because the quantity of oil drawn from the field was lessening.  What did people think, the reserves were infinite?  Then why the hell did they call them reserves?  So, Ray found himself going through the books at three in the morning, hoping that there was some part of the field that they hadn't exhausted yet.  That's when it happened.

At first, Ray thought it was the first rays of the morning sun coming over the horizon.  But that didn't make sense for a little past three.  Ray turned his gaze to the window of his office that was really a trailer, kind of like one of those portables you'd see in a public school once the buildings had been overcrowded.  The light, first a speck at the horizon of the field, grew in intensity, forcing Ray to put his hand up to his eyes, shielding them from the glare the light caused against the glass of the window.  But, as soon as Ray moved his hand to his face, the light faded.  Ray instinctively blinked his eyes, his mind racing to catch up with his emotions.  Did he really see that?  Ray sighed as the urgency of the upcoming meeting got the better of him, his gaze moving back to the books.

"Seeing things."  Ray's hand moved roughly through his hair, frustration setting in as his eyes scanned the pages once again.  "God, I need a drink."  Another stifled yawn overcame him as he flipped the page, realizing that he was looking at an older map of the area.

The man in the psychiatric ward wasn't a normal man.  In fact, those that knew him thought that he was, to put it bluntly, off his rocker.  Really?  Aliens roaming the earth?  Werewolves are real, sure they are.  And don't even get him started on vampires.  That was why he was now spending his time in the so-called mental ward.  Apparently, no one had thought it fitting to tell Mr. John (call me Jack) Tweedy that vampires weren't real.  They were a figment of his imagination.  

But there it was.  Mr. Tweedy knew that he was of sound mind.  But, maybe that's the thing.  Who can say what's sane and what's insane?  Just because you can't see the bogeyman doesn't mean he's not out there somewhere carving up people left and right.  To tell the truth, things have always been different for Jack.  Ever since the night he drove his car off the Golden Gate Bridge.

He didn't mean to.  Come on, no one actually means to drive off a bridge unless they're suicidal, and even then, you'd have to be damn serious to go that far.  But there was something in the road.  To this day, Jack swore up and down, on as many Bibles he could get his hands on, that there had been something on the road.  No, not something.  Someone.  A woman.  But it didn't look like a woman.  It had the features of a woman.  That much he was sure of since the body he had swerved to avoid had been essentially nude.  However, Jack could have sworn as the car careened into the steel siding of the bridge, that the woman had a glow about her.  

Not that she was pregnant, mind you.  She was imitating a night-light and was doing a pretty good job at it.  That, and the fact that her hair stuck up.  Well, parts of it anyway.  In two sharp tufts.  But it could have been a sleight of mind.  After all, Jack was falling to his death.  And, what's a little mind screw when you're plummeting to your death.  Maybe that was what people saw when they said their lives flashed before their eyes.  In the case of Jack Tweedy, he had seen a glowing naked woman.  Before he had his near death experience.

Jack knew he should have died that night a year or so ago.  But something happened.  One moment, he was conscious, seeing the water rushing toward him, his mouth trying to work as nothing came out.  The next moment, darkness.  It could have been the water clouding his vision, but it didn't feel like it.  If it were, he would have surely remembered the bitter cold.  That was the thing.  He didn't remember the car sinking into the water.  He didn't remember getting out of the car.  And he sure as hell didn't remember swimming the hundreds of feet needed to get back to the nearest landmass that the bridge sat upon.

But, that was what apparently had happened because the next thing Jack knew, he was straddling the nearest shore, damp and in pain.  And with numerous EMS people hovering over him.  The paramedic working on him was sure that Jack was dead.  The EKG never spiked.  That's probably why the man bolted upright, moving backwards as he did so, when Jack groaned in pain.  Maybe the equipment was damaged?  Maybe.

Things got weirder when the police got their turn with Mr. Tweedy.  What had possessed the man to drive off the Golden Gate Bridge?  What?  What do you mean what?  There was a woman in the middle of the road, that's what.  Oh, you mean the woman that only you saw.  Because if there was a woman on that bridge, the guy right behind you didn't try to swerve out of the way.  Must have run her over and kept going.  Just like the hundred or so people behind you.

Jack was sure the cop didn't mean to sound condescending, but based on the facts, Jack was coming off like a doped up fanatic that wanted to end the pain.  Fortunately for Jack, the supposed stress of the situation that Jack had just experienced allowed him some leeway.  People didn't think he was crazy until the day he started shouting that the end of the world was coming.

He didn't mean to, but the visions in his head were so real.  He could have sworn that he was actually there.  He wasn't sure where there was, but Jack knew that the end of the world was coming.  The young teenage girl had been cut by an old man, the old man letting her bleed over the side of a tower.  Some guy had tried to save her, but the old man had just thrown him off the tower to his death.  Then came the swirl of energy, tearing the world apart.  What decent person wouldn't warn the people around him that the end was coming?

And that's how Jack's life took a nosedive in the sociability department.  The flashes came more frequently after that night.  He wasn't sure what had happened with that, but apparently, it worked out for the best because he was still standing.  Unfortunately, he wasn't sure if he wanted to remain standing.

Jack could see the world for what it really was now.  Not just a world of human monsters.  But monsters that were actually monsters.  He saw them now.  Whenever he walked to the local mart.  He knew who on the street was human and who wasn't.  It wasn't so much the fact that his eyes told him, but the voice in his head.  That same voice that told you it was bad for you to take the cookie from the jar as a child without your mother's consent.  But, now, the voice told him, hey, demon.  Well, wasn't that a neat parlor trick?

The problem was, Jack wasn't sure if he was okay from that point on in his life.  Demons?  Come on, really?  So, Jack had done the only sensible thing.  He didn't have that many friends to miss him as well as any immediate family.  The move made sense in his mind when he decided upon it.  And that's how Mr. John Tweedy found himself a resident of the Los Angeles Mental Institution.

But, that didn't mean anything to Jack at that moment.  Because the sharp pain in his head that had suddenly overcome him dropped him to his knees.  He thought he was yelling, but he wasn't sure because of the roaring inside his head.  As his hands clutched as his head, his hospital gown coming precariously to the point of indecency at the back, Jack felt a hand on his shoulder.  But that didn't matter at the moment.  All that mattered was getting rid of the twinge reverberating throughout his inner skull.

The hand was joined by another, this one finding Jack's other shoulder, gently pulling him to his feet.  However, Jack continued to deal with the pain in his head.  He never noticed the orderly talking to him, asking him what was the matter.  Jack finally realized that there was someone in front of him when the pain subsided.  Because that's when it all came into focus for Jack.  His eyes went from one of relief to one of shock as Jack realized what it was that had followed the pain.  The orderly tried his question once again.

"Mr. Tweedy?  Are you okay?  What's wrong?"

He answered the best he could, the pain returning, the images in his head beginning to come faster.  "He's coming."

"Who's coming, Mr. Tweedy?  Someone you know?"  To say the orderly was getting frustrated with Jack's behavior was an understatement.

"He's coming.  Oh, God.  He's coming!"  Jack's voice began to swell as the images continued to bombard his senses.  The orderly continued to do his job, trying to get Mr. Tweedy to calm down.

"Don't worry, Mr. Tweedy.  You're safe here.  I promise."

Jack didn't feel the comfort in those words as the images continued to cycle in his mind's eye.  The same declaration escaped Jack's lips, this time with more intensity.  "You don't understand!  He's coming!"  

Jack tried to run past the orderlies, wanting to get out of the room and somewhere safe.  Wherever that was, it wasn't in this small recreational room where the patients got an hour of television and all the board games they could handle.  Unfortunately, the orderlies thought it rude of Jack to try and leave without permission.

"Whoa, Mr. Tweedy.  You know better than to go outside without doctor's consent."  The hand tightly squeezed Jack's wrist, pulling Jack backward into the sofa.  His legs gave way as they impacted the arm, Jack falling to the floor.  The orderly moved to Jack, not meaning for him to end up on the floor.  "Oh, God.  I'm sorry.  You okay, Mr. Tweedy?"

Jack made no motion to get up, the flashes in his mind continuing to cause him pain.  However, what comprised those images only heightened his trepidation.  "He's coming!  He's coming!"  

"That's enough of that, Mr. Tweedy.  Let's see if we can get you something to help you sleep."  As the orderly bent down to retrieve the once normal Mr. John Tweedy, Jack bellowed a cry, one only heard during times of great distress and anguish.  The orderly couldn't help but step back and finally recognize the point Jack was trying to get across.  The tone in Jack's voice made the orderly's blood curdled as Jack's voice echoed throughout the room.

"He's here!"

A few miles away and a few hours later, Buffy Summers found herself waking up to the sound of a loud electronic shrill, realizing after a while why she had set her alarm on a weekend.  Today was the big day.  Today was Xander and Anya's wedding.  The first one had been marred by Xander's insecurities, but Buffy could feel it in her heart that today would be different.  Today would be the day that Xander finally became a husband.

As Buffy's hand reached for the alarm clock, her demeanor changed slightly, her happiness now tinted with sorrow.  It had been over a week since she last spoke to Spike.  He said that he'd try to get back in time for the wedding.  So, unless Spike had flown in the night before, Buffy knew that Spike wouldn't be present at the wedding.  Even if he did arrive in Sunnydale the night before, he would have surely called her.  Right?

Buffy sighed as she realized she didn't have a clear-cut answer to that question.  A week.  It had been a week since Spike had met the Watchers' Council.  So, why hadn't he come back?  Were there still questions he needed answers to?  That was possible.  After all, the Council would most likely keep some secrets to themselves, even though they would ultimately help Spike, just because they had to maintain their air of superiority.

Maybe she should call Giles.  Just to make sure the Council wasn't leading Spike around the bend.  That's all.  She wasn't calling to see if Spike was okay.  He was a big boy.  He could take care of himself.  But, Buffy didn't think it would hurt any if she checked in anyway.  Buffy sighed as she finally rolled out of bed.

"Acting like a possessive girlfriend, Buffy."  Girlfriend.  Was she even that?  That wasn't the right question.  Was she ever that?  She was with Angel and Riley.  But, what did she really have with Spike?  Well, there was the sex.  God, was there sex.  But, other than that, what did they really have?  It's not like she actually treated him like a person when he was alive.  Well, a vampire.  But, after that night in the cemetery, Buffy had realized the truth.  Her feelings for Spike were more than physical.  They had to be.  Why else would she hurt so much inside after he died?

Buffy moved from the bed, pulling her robe about her body as she made her way downstairs.  The aroma of coffee and eggs wafting upstairs disrupted her train of thought; hunger getting the better of her.  Apparently Tara was already up.  It couldn't have been Dawn because, to tell the truth, Dawn's culinary skills peaked at peanut butter and banana quesadillas.  As Buffy rounded the corner into the kitchen, she saw that she was right about it not being Dawn.  However, she was wrong about it being Tara.

"Hey, Will."

Willow Rosenberg turned from the oven range, one hand still on the skillet handle, the other moving the spatula through the mixture of eggs, red peppers, onions, and cheese.  "Hope you're hungry, Buffy.  Think I kinda went overboard with breakfast."

Buffy's eyes perused the kitchen counter as well as the island.  Willow was right.  While there were only four people under the roof, Willow had gone ahead and made enough food for a small battalion.  Well, that and maybe a troupe of Boy Scouts.  Buffy grabbed the juice carton from the island and poured herself a glass.  After taking a sip, Buffy responded to her friend's query.

"Think I'm too nervous to eat."  Willow gently chuckled as she scooped the contents of the skillet onto a pile of eggs already waiting for any passerby that had a hankering for the substance.

"Why?  You're not the one getting married.  Or is that something else I missed while I was away?"

Buffy gently shook her head, a small smile covering the inkling of pain inherent in that thought.  She was a Slayer.  And, that being said, she knew that any hope of leading a normal life was always going to elude her.  She could barely manage a relationship with someone of the opposite sex on an intimate level.  The thought of being a wife or a mother were a child's dream.  She would never be those things.  Because she was the Slayer.

"No, you didn't miss anything.  See."  Buffy playfully raised her left hand up to Willow's gaze, her fingers moving in a wavelike motion.  "No ring."  Willow placed the skillet in the sink with the other utensils and bowls she'd have to wash later, moving to the island, grabbing a seat on one of the stools.

"Not yet, you mean."  

Buffy shot her friend a sarcastic grin as she took another sip of her orange juice.  "Yeah.  The guys are knocking down my door."

Willow poured herself a cup of coffee, adding cream as she spoke.  "Well, there's Spike, right?"  Willow knew that Buffy and Spike had gone through some sort of relationship when she began feeling insecure about her place in the group.  While she was trying to prove to her friends that she mattered.  But, Willow didn't realize the scope of Buffy's feelings until that night in Spike's apartment.  As Buffy tended to Spike's garden, the two friends spoke in great detail about what had happened to the other.  Why Willow felt like she had to prove herself useful by turning to dark magicks.  Why Buffy had felt guilty being with her friends.  And why she had felt alive being with Spike.  Before Buffy could respond to her friend's question, a voice from upstairs broke the silence.

"Buffy!  I can't find my shoes!  Did you move them?!?"

Buffy emitted a soft sigh as she finished off the remnants of her juice, then shouted her question to her little sister.  "Did you check the closet?"

"No, Buffy.  Because that would be the last place I'd check for my shoes."  The sarcasm was so thick; Buffy knew what was coming next.  "Of course I checked there!"

Buffy frowned as she looked at Willow.  "Be right back.  I have to find Dawn's shoes which are probably under her bed."  Willow smiled gently as Buffy made her way to Dawn's room.  As Willow sat there alone in the kitchen, she couldn't help but remember back to the other night at Spike's apartment.  If it weren't for that moment, she was sure that she and Buffy wouldn't be as friendly as they were now.  In fact, she was sure that she would have lost her friend's trust forever if it weren't for that night.

"So, that was a Squishie?"

Buffy gently chuckled as she unlocked the door to Spike's apartment, motioning with her arm as though she were a doorman for Willow to enter first.  Willow nodded playfully as she stepped into the apartment, Buffy following right behind her.  As Buffy turned the deadbolt into the doorframe, Willow looked around at her surroundings, still not entirely believing the fact that Spike, undead person and all around baddie, lived in a place like this.  She might have believed that a working adult lived here, but Spike?  No way.

Buffy walked past Willow, casually tossing her jacket onto the sofa.  As she turned back to her friend, she could see the look of discern on her face.  "What's wrong, Will?"

"Oh, nothing.  It's just…"  Willow took a breath as she continued.  "Spike really lives here?"

Buffy chuckled once again, her hand pointing over to the stereo system.  "Check out the records and ask me again."  Willow smiled as she moved over to the entertainment cabinet, her fingers flipping the record sleeves toward her as though they were pages in a paperback.  As the album titles floated past her eyes, Willow knew for certain that this was indeed Spike's abode.  Who else could listen to that much punk music?

"Okay.  Spike lives here."  Both women shared a laugh as Buffy moved to the kitchen, grabbing the watering can.  As the faucet ran, the can being filled, Willow's inquisitiveness got the best of her.  "So, Spike's a good guy now?"

Buffy smiled as she spoke.  "C'mon, Will.  We all didn't want to see it, but he's been good for a while now."  Buffy considered her response, correcting herself somewhat.  "Okay, maybe not an angel.  But he's been on our side for a long time."  She frowned as she continued.  "It just took us a while to realize it."

Willow thought she could see a flash of sorrow on Buffy's countenance, but that thought was quickly dispelled as a subtle grin emerged on Buffy's lips.  Willow decided to change the topic for the sake of her friend.  "I wouldn't exactly call this a garden, Buff."  Buffy looked at Willow as she indicated the plants sitting on the kitchen counter.  "I think this is more of a patch than a garden."  Willow didn't expect the laugh from Buffy, but was pleased at the robustness of it.  This was nice.  Almost like old times.

"He got me with that, too.  These are just for decoration."  Buffy turned off the faucet, moving to the balcony, watering can in hand.  "C'mon.  I'll show you the real stuff."  Willow frowned a bit as she nodded.  Buffy slid the glass door open, stepping out into the night.  Willow followed, her breath catching in her throat upon seeing the display in front of her.  After a moment of struggling for words, Willow just resorted to what was on her mind.

"Wow."

Buffy smiled as she began to water the roses.  They were always the first things she watered whenever she was here.  She wasn't sure why, but whenever she looked at them, she felt comfortable.  At ease.  "I know what you mean.  I was speechless the first time I saw them as well."

Willow slowly leant over a group of tulips, inhaling strongly as she enjoyed the scent igniting her olfactory nerves.  "Who knew Spike had a green thumb?"  Buffy giggled, feeling the absurdity of the situation overwhelming her.

"Tell me about it.  I would have thought it was red."  Willow looked at her friend, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.  "You know, he being a vampire and all."  Willow got the joke and softly chuckled.

"Well, he's not a vampire anymore.  Right?"

Buffy moved from the roses, beginning to water the poinsettias.  "We're not sure.  He can do all of the non-vamp things now."

"Non-vamp?"

"Sunlight, crosses, garlic.  Doesn't hurt him anymore.  That and the fact he breathes and has a pulse kinda almost takes him out of the category of vampire."

"Guess so."  Willow considered Buffy's response before stating the obvious.  "Wait.  Almost?"

Buffy sighed as she placed the watering can on one of the tables holding up Spike's flowers.  "Remember when I said Spike attacked me in the cemetery?"

"Yeah."

After a deep breath, Buffy continued.  "Well, his face morphed into a vamp."

Willow took in the information, not entirely understanding the facts placed in front of her.  "Wait.  You said he was alive, right?"

"Yep."

"But he can still go all vampy?"

"That's the gist of it."  Buffy leaned her back against the balcony railing, her arms wrapping about her chest.  "But his eyes were different."

Willow moved over to Buffy, standing in front of her friend.  "What do you mean by different?"

"His eyes were human."  Buffy shivered slightly, thinking it was the cold getting to her.  She knew better, though.

"Really?  That's new."

"That's one way to put it."  Both women smiled at each other before Buffy bowed her head, the conversation starting to take its toll on her psyche.

"So, is that why Spike and Giles are in England right now?"  Buffy nodded, her eyes still on the floor.  Willow was uncertain of Buffy's mood, asking the obvious question.

"That's a good thing, right?  They find out what Spike is from the Council and all is right with the world."  Buffy looked up, seeing a quizzical look on Willow's face.

"I'm not sure."

Willow looked at Buffy, unsure of the emotion now on her face.  Willow walked over to the railing slowly, standing next to Buffy's side as she spoke.  "What's wrong?"

Buffy turned her gaze from the floor to Willow, a false smile playing across her face.  Willow nodded at her, indicating to Buffy that her charade wasn't working.  With a deep sigh, Buffy answered her friend's question.

"I don't think Spike wants to come back."  Willow slowly tilted her head, trying to get a better view of Buffy's face.  She could now identify the emotion covering Buffy.  She acted as though she had just lost the most important person in her life.

"Why would you say that?  With everything that happened last year, he'd be an idiot to not come back to you."  Buffy softly laughed, a hint of bitterness tinting it.

"I could see it in his eyes."  Buffy turned her body as well as her gaze to the skyline, her elbows resting against the railing.  Willow looked on as Buffy continued her narrative.  "I know he still cares for me, but I don't think he loves me anymore."

Love.  Willow knew that Buffy and Spike had been intimate during their approximate yearlong tryst.  But love?  Willow had no idea things had been that serious.  It didn't seem that way when Buffy had first told them about the affair and how Spike had ended it.  It almost sounded like Spike had used her, taking advantage of her after her resurrection.  But, Willow knew that something had changed since that night.  Somewhere along the way, her friend had developed feelings for a vampire.  Again.  Must be fate, Willow thought to herself as she tried to reassure her friend.

"Well, I don't think that's true.  Ever since he's been back here in Sunnydale, all he's ever wanted was you.  Why would he think differently now?"

"Because he won't even look at me without turning away."  Buffy sighed as she continued.  "God, I'm hopeless.  I'm falling in love with someone I have no right to."

Willow leaned against the railing, sliding closer to Buffy.  "You fell in love with Angel."

"But that was…"  Willow finished her troubled companion's thought.

"Different?"

Buffy smirked as she answered Willow's query.  "Yeah."

Willow had to ask the obvious.  "Why?"  Buffy turned her gaze to Willow, a hint of confusion on her face.  "Why is it different?"

"Because Spike's a killer."  Willow offered a counterpoint.

"Angel was a killer."

"But Angel has a soul now."

"And Spike might or might not.  You said he didn't know what he was now."  Buffy looked down once again, frustration getting the better of her.  Willow continued her observation.  "Look.  Even if Spike doesn't have a soul, does it really matter?  He's good."

"How can you just say that?  With what he's done in the past?"

Willow answered her friend's question.  "Because of what he did for me."  Buffy's look of puzzlement made Willow continue with her explanation.  "What kind of evil creature gives his life to save the world?"

Buffy spoke, her voice a hushed whisper.  "You remember that?"

Willow gently traced the scars on the side of her neck, remembering what Spike had done.  What Spike had stopped her from accomplishing.  "Kinda hard not to with a constant reminder."  Buffy noted Willow feeling the scars that Spike had left, nodding acknowledgment.  "And he stopped me from doing something I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for."

"Willow…"

Willow interrupted Buffy, continuing her narrative.  "I know that things will never be the same between us because of what happened to Amy."  A deep sigh of regret escaped Willow's lips as she spoke again.  "But I know that eventually, I'll be able to accept what I've done and somehow make reparations.  I just hope it'll be enough for you to forgive me."

Buffy turned back around, leaning her back against the railing, her shoulder now touching Willow's.  "Nothing's changed, Willow.  You're still one of my most trusted friends.  I wish you'd realize that."

Willow gently laughed, a smile emerging on her face.  "Okay, I'll tell you what.  I won't forget if you stop thinking about the past and start looking to the future."  Buffy nodded, a smile now on her face as well.

"I never would have thought you for a Spike supporter."

"Well, what can I say?  He has that annoying ability to grow on you."

"All except Xander."

"That's just a guy thing.  All alpha male and stuff along those lines."

Both women shared a laugh, Buffy resting her head against Willow's as she spoke.  "Wanna see the rest of the place?"

"Hmm, let me see.  We could either, A, stay outside in the cold night air or B, dig through Spike's closet."

Both women looked at each other, answering simultaneously.  "B it is."  Another shared laugh as they made their way back into the apartment.

"Mmm, something smells good."  Willow stirred from her memories, seeing Tara pinch a bit of substance from a pancake, tossing it into her mouth as she placed the rest onto a plate.  She sat down next to Willow, seeing the quizzical look on her face.  "Everything okay?"

"Yeah.  Just thinking."

"About?"  Willow smiled at Tara, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Doesn't matter.  So, are you ready for the big day?"

"Bridesmaid dress out of the plastic covering and ready to go."  Tara leaned over and poured herself a glass of juice before speaking once again.  "So, how about you?  I know it's kind of last minute, but you ready to be best man?  Uh, woman.  Person."

"I get the picture, Tara."  Willow scooped out a plateful of eggs, taking a bite, a smile on her face at the taste of her own cooking.  "I'm just glad Xander wanted me to be there for him."

"You're his best friend, honey.  He couldn't not have you there."

"I know you're right, but I'm still going through this self loathing phase.  It's gonna take me a while to come to grips with the past."

Tara reached over the counter, gently grasping her former lover's hand.  "I'm here for you, Willow.  No matter what."  Buffy's voice interrupted the silence.

"We all are."  Both women turned to the kitchen passage into the living room, seeing Buffy and Dawn walking toward the island.  Willow turned toward Dawn, grinning as she spoke.

"Hey, Dawnster.  Find your shoes?"  Buffy answered before Dawn had a chance to.

"Yeah, she found them.  Care to guess where?"

Willow fathomed a guess, remembering Buffy's initial one.  "Under her bed?"  Buffy nodded, her arms crossed about her person while Dawn tried to defend herself.

"Hey, there's a lot of junk under there.  How was I supposed to know they were there?"

Tara responded this time.  "Because you put them there?"

"Hey, what is this?  Pick on Dawn day?"  Willow answered, her smile growing.

"No.  This is the day Xander and Anya get married."  All of the women smiled at the statement, Buffy picking up her glass, offering a toast.

"I can drink to that."  They waited for Dawn to pour a glass of juice before playfully toasting.  Then came the laughter.  Willow smiled at the sounds, knowing that she was home.  That she was where she belonged.

Xander stood in front of the mirror, examining himself in the tux.  He had done this once before, and it had ended with him walking away from everything because his doubts overpowered his love for Anya.  But, the more he thought about that day; he realized that he had nothing to worry about.  He loved Anya.  More than anything in the world.  He wouldn't become his father.  He'd make damn sure of that.  Because Anya was worth it.

As Xander straightened his tie, the door opened behind him, Xander tilting his head in the mirror to see whom it was.

"Hey, Xander."

"Hey, Buff.  Everyone downstairs?"

Buffy stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.  "Pretty much."  She lied.  The one person she wanted to be there wasn't.  But she maintained her composure, keeping her emotions in check.  This was Xander's day.  And she'd be there for him.  "Tara and Willow are keeping your father company so he doesn't get as tipsy as the last time."

"That's good."  Xander struggled with his tie a bit more before Buffy's hand came down on his shoulder, indicating for him to turn around.

"Let me see."  Xander complied, looking down as Buffy adjusted his tie.  "You know, we've been here before, so you know what I'm going to say."

"Yeah, but could you say it again?  For encouragement?"  Buffy smiled at her friend, her fingers still on his tie.

"Well, I don't remember the exact words, but they were something in the neighborhood of you're the luckiest guy in the world.  I envy you.  And I love you."  Xander gently chuckled as Buffy looked up at him.  "There, all done."  Buffy stepped back, looking at her handiwork.  "Perfect."

"Well, I have you to thank for that."  Xander smiled as he spoke, then saw the tears welling up in his friend's eyes.  He moved over to her, his arms wrapping around her waist.  "Hey.  Hey.  I thought I was the one that was supposed to be getting all emotional."

Buffy sniffled against Xander's shoulder, hugging him back.  "I know.  I'm just glad one of us is going to live happily ever after."  Xander looked down at Buffy, seeing the mixture of happiness and sorrow at the same time.  She was missing Spike.  It was the only thing that made sense.  He decided to make sure.

"Don't worry.  I'm sure you'll get that happily ever after soon enough."  Buffy gently laughed, resting her head against Xander's chest.  "So, are our British friends coming?"

"I don't think so.  He…"  Buffy paused, correcting herself.  "They would have called by now."

Xander considered his friend's words, remembering the promise Spike had made him keep before telling him that he might not be coming back once he got to England.  Even an ocean away, Spike was still hurting Xander's friend.  Promise or not, Buffy deserved the truth.  "Buffy?"

She looked up to his friend, a smile on her face while she wiped the tears from her eyes.  "What is it, Xander?"  He was ready to tell her everything.  About everything that had transpired in the hospital room after he and Giles had been rescued from Doc's grasp.  But one look in Buffy's eyes, and he knew.  She still had hope.  Hope in the fact that Spike, bastard that he was, would come back to Sunnydale.  Would come back to her.  Then and there, Xander knew he had no right to shatter that hope.  After all, without hope, what does a person have left?

"Um, nothing.  Just…"  Buffy tilted her head at her friend, a smirk on the corner of her lips.  "I'm the one that should be crying.  It's not like you're getting the old ball and chain after all."  Buffy giggled, gently hitting Xander on his shoulder.

"It's not gonna be like that.  Anya loves you.  And you love her."

Xander smiled back at Buffy, grabbing her in a tender embrace.  "When you're right, you're right."  He pulled back, looking at his friend, a grin on his face.  "Now, let's get this show on the road, whaddya say?"

Buffy nodded, squeezing Xander's hand as she moved toward the door.  "I'll tell Willow you're ready."  As Buffy walked out of the door, Xander turned back to the mirror, a smile on his face.  After today, he was going to be a husband.  Xander chuckled at the thought, wondering where the time had gone.

Half a world away, Spike sat in the flat of one Rupert Giles, waiting for him to get back from his contact.  While the rain continued to pelt the windows, Spike sat in the darkness, fiddling with the small jewelry box in his hand.  While he had gotten all the answers he could from the Watcher's Council, he realized that there were still questions that went unanswered.  For one, what the hell was he?  Secondly, what the hell was Doc thinking when he thought up the name Rocco?

Spike knew he needed new documents now that he was back.  Well, with the majority of his memory intact.  The last reminder he needed was Doc's moniker for him as well as the 'help' he had given Spike once he came back.  So, with a quick query to Giles, the Watcher decided that Spike's idea was a good one and that he'd do all he could to remedy the situation.  Unfortunately, miracles didn't come quickly.  It had been almost two weeks since their meeting with the Council.  Two weeks since he talked to her.

A little over a month since he last saw her.  He was starting to wonder if she had moved on.  Probably.  She was still young and beautiful.  Cor, was she beautiful.  Spike had wanted to pick up the phone and call her since that night with the Council, but with his memories in his faculty once again, the doubts came back as well.  She was the Slayer.  He was a vampire.  Well, formerly anyway.  But that didn't change the fact that there were so many reasons why they shouldn't be together.  And so little reasons why they should be.  But, the little reasons were starting to take control of his emotions.

He knew it that day when he was walking down Portobello Road.  It wasn't until he saw the store window that his memories fell into place.  This was the same way he had come when Doc had freed him from the Council holding cells.  It was also then that Spike realized what he had been looking at in the store window before Doc had interrupted him.

And that was how Spike came to find himself with a small velvet covered jewelry box in between his fingers.  Question was, what should he do with it?  Before he could ponder the thought, Spike heard the lock untumble, the door swinging upon immediately afterward.  Spike pocketed the jewel box, getting up to greet his flat mate.

"Hullo, Rupert.  How'd it go?"

Giles, drenched from the waist down, walked into the flat, dropping the umbrella into the holder next to the door.  Apparently, the umbrella was only big enough for half a person.  While Spike thought that Giles would be upset with his level of dampness, the smile on the Watcher's face proved him wrong.

"Take a look."  Giles tossed an envelope toward Spike, he plucking it effortlessly out of the air.  As Spike slowly opened the envelope, a subtle grin played across his face.

"How much this cost you?"

"You don't want to know."

Spike nodded at the Watcher who had become something of a friend over the course of the month, looking down at the documents.  Passport, birth certificate, green card.  It was all there.  Finally, Spike noticed the name on the green card.

"You're kidding."

Giles smiled, moving to the bedroom to get into something of the dry variety.  He continued speaking even though he was no longer in the room.  "I thought it was rather poetic.  And, seeing as how you didn't give me a name to go on, I thought I'd take a little creative license."

"A little?  I'd say you took the bloody license and tossed it out the sodding window.  Buffy's liable to think I'm stalking her if she finds out."

Giles' chortle could be heard resonating throughout the flat as he spoke.  "Well, at least you still have your first name, William."  Spike noted that, wondering if that was a good or bad thing.  Giles stepped back into the living room, now donning a pair of dry slacks.  "Oh, wouldn't want to forget this."  Giles' hand moved to his jacket pocket, pulling out a thin slip of paper.  He placed it on the coffee table as he sat down on the sofa.

Spike leaned over, picking up the slip of paper, realizing that it was a plane ticket.  Dated for today.  "What?  You tired of my company already?"

"Perish the thought."  Both men shared a smile as Giles continued.  "Just thought that since you've got everything you need, you'd want to get back as soon as possible.  A shame we couldn't make it back for the wedding, though."

"Yeah."  Spike looked at the plane ticket, doubt beginning to overcome him once again.  Did he really want to go back?  Did she even want him back?  After all, she hadn't called him since that night on the phone.  Giles could hear the uncertainty in Spike's voice as he tried to reassure him.

"Look.  The sooner you get back, the sooner you'll be able to give Buffy what's in that box."  Spike looked at him quizzically, hoping he didn't mean what Spike thought he meant.  Unfortunately, as soon as Giles pointed to the bulge in Spike's side pocket, Spike knew that it was time to cover.

"What, this?  It's nothin'.  Just a gift for niblet.  A little 'thank you for bringing me back from the dead' gift."

"Is that so?"

"That's right."

Giles waved his hand in the air, indicating that he was buying Spike's reason even though it was clear given the countenance on his face that he wasn't.  "Then, you'd want to get back as soon as possible to thank Dawn then."

"And what about you?  You not coming?"

"Oh, I am.  Just have some things to tie up here seeing as how I'm not sure how long my stay will be in the states this time."

"Oh."  Spike fiddled with the airline ticket, searching for the words.  "Don't know if I've said this lately, but thanks."

"For what?"

"You know."

Giles sat up, his hands cupped, dangling between his legs.  "No, I don't."

Spike took a breath before he spoke.  "Look.  Ain't that many blokes that would put it on the line for me, what with my past and all.  And…"

Giles waved his hand once again, interrupting Spike's speech.  "You've proven that you want to be a better person.  If I can help that along, I'll gladly do it.  End of story."

The former vampire grinned, placing the ticket in his back pocket.  "Thanks for that.  Was afraid for a second I'd come off like a git."

"Oh, you did.  But not as much as you would have."  Another shared smile before Spike turned his gaze to the envelope.

"You know, it kinda rolls off the tongue."  Giles gave him a quizzical look before Spike expanded on the statement.  "The name."

"Well, the alliteration does that.  That and the ironic symbolism, being you're both opposites."

"It does at that.  Well, I guess I should get packed."  As Spike turned back to the bedroom, Giles called out to him.

"Should I call Buffy and let her know you're on your way?"

Spike thought about that for a second, his hand on the jewelry box.  "No.  Think I'll surprise her."  And, with that, Spike went into his room to pack for his journey back to Sunnydale.

Buffy could see that Dawn was on the verge of tears as they stood next to the altar, Xander and Anya standing in front of Father Harrison.  Buffy gently nudged her little sister with her elbow, tenderly smiling at her, noting that she was on the verge of tears as well.  This time, things had gone differently.  No melee between the families.  No Xander getting cold feet.  No Mr. Harris acting lewdly toward any woman with a pulse.  And no Spike.  But now wasn't the time for depressing thoughts.  Now was a time of joy.  Because two of her friends were getting married.

Willow stood next to Xander's side, a gentle smile on her face as she looked from Xander to the bridesmaids, her gaze locking on Tara.  Tara returned the smile as the Father began to speak.

"This is the time you have chosen to become husband and wife. We are here, not only to witness your commitment to each other, but also to wish you both every happiness in your future life together. Within its framework of commitment and loyalty marriage enables the establishment of a home, where through trust, patience and respect, the love and affection which you have for each other may develop into a deep and lasting relationship."

The minister took a small breath, most likely to fill his lungs with air once again before continuing on.

"We who are witnessing your marriage, hope that despite the stresses inevitable in any life your love, respect for each other, your trust and understanding of each other will increase your contentment and heighten your joy in living."

Xander gently smiled at Anya, she returning it in kind.  As they looked lovingly into each other's eyes, Father Harrison continued.

"Before you Xander and Anya are joined in marriage in my presence of these your family, friends and witnesses, I am to remind you of the serious and binding nature of the relationship you are now about to enter."

Both nodded almost instinctively as they readied themselves for what was coming next.

"I shall now ask you to make your marriage vows."

Xander looked at his wife to be, a small smile on his lips as he recited the words he had been waiting an eternity to say to the woman standing in front of him.

"I call upon all present to witness that I take you to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health while we both shall live."

Anya smiled at her soon to be ex-fiancé, tears threatening to come tumbling down.  However, she took a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn't make a mistake with her words.

"I call upon all present to witness that I take you to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health while we both shall live."

Buffy smiled at the words, marveling in the beauty of them as the minister continued with the ceremony.

"Xander, will you take Anya to be your lawful wife, will you love her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only unto her so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Anya, will you take Xander to be your lawful husband, will you love him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only unto him so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

Upon hearing those words, Willow stepped to Xander's side, presenting both participants with the rings.  Xander took the ring from his best friend, a smile on his face as he looked at her.  Anya also shared a smile with Willow, realizing that she was about to become a wife.  Xander and Anya turned back to one another, Willow returning to her friend's side.

"Anya, with this ring, I thee wed."

Then he gently took her hand, slowly sliding on the wedding band onto Anya's ring finger.  Anya let out a subtle sigh as she began to speak.

"Xander, with this ring, I thee wed."

Anya's hands trembled a bit as she took Xander's hand in her own, afraid that something might happen to stop this perfect moment.  Fortunately, she didn't have to worry because as soon as she slipped the ring onto Xander's finger, the world kept on going.  It was at that moment; Anya realized that this was indeed real.  The minister spoke as soon as Anya placed the band on Xander's finger.

"As you have consented together to be bound to one another in lawful marriage. You have made special promises to each other which have been symbolized by the joining of hands, taking of vows and by the giving and receiving of rings."

Father Harrison paused for a moment, letting the weight of the words sink in for both participants.  However, the words only made the other more sure that this was the right thing to do.

"By the authority vested in me, according to the laws of California I now pronounce you to be husband and wife."  He looked at both kindly, his last words filled with tenderness.  "You may now kiss the bride."

Xander slowly leaned down toward Anya, tenderly kissing his wife, Anya returning the kiss in kind.  The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as the lovers separated, both realizing that the rest of their lives lay in front of them.

Buffy sat with the rest of her friends as they looked at the couples dancing on the ballroom floor, Xander and Anya at the center of the festivities.  She smiled, the tears threatening to come once again.  It was such a beautiful moment, two people declaring their undying love for one another.  Buff wondered if that would ever happen for her.  If she would ever find such happiness.

"What are you thinking about?"

Buffy turned her gaze from the floor, seeing Dawn's quizzical look.

"What's that, Dawnie?"

"You've got that look on your face again."

"What look is that?"

Willow chimed in, also noting the look on Buffy's face being similar to that on the balcony that night in Spike's apartment.

"The look like you're a million miles away."

"Oh, that look."  Buffy wanly smiled, pushing away her thoughts of the future.  "That's because I have to stop off at the little girls' room."  Buffy rose from the table, making her way to the bathroom even though she didn't have use of it.

Willow looked back at Dawn and Tara, asking the obvious question.  "Spike hasn't called lately, has he?"

Tara answered, Dawn shaking her head.  "No.  But he's probably busy with all that Council stuff."

"Yeah, that's probably it."  Willow shook her head, not entirely believing it.  When he was a soulless vampire, he couldn't stop thinking about Buffy.  Now, with his being back from the dead, alive no less, he couldn't even pick up the phone to see how she was doing.  Maybe Willow was wrong about Spike.  Maybe he was more evil now than before.  Now, wasn't that a thought to ponder.

As Willow sat with her friends, Xander sauntered over to the table, Anya by her side.

"Come on, guys.  Up and at them.  Time to get your groove on."  Anya responded in kind.

"Yes.  My husband's right.  This is a joyous occasion.  First we dance.  Then we have the extra special sex."  Xander turned to his wife, a look of puzzlement on his face as Dawn and Tara shared a laugh, remembering back to the wedding store with Roy.

Xander shook off the comment, realizing that Buffy wasn't present.  "Hey, where's Buffy?"  Dawn answered.

"She went to powder her nose."

Xander could sense the sudden turn in emotions at the table.  "What is it?"  Willow answered.

"She's thinking about Spike."  Tara and Dawn nodded in agreement.

"God, I knew I should have told her."

Anya looked at Xander, her arm wrapped around his.  "Told her what?"

Xander took a deep breath before he spoke, unsure if he should tell his friends.  But, with Buffy's current dilemma, it seemed right to get it out in the open.  "Spike's not coming back."  Dawn took the news the hardest.

"What do you mean he's not coming back?  He said he would."

"Dawn…"

"No, tell me why you'd even say something like that, Xander?"

Another deep breath before he spoke.  "He told me he wasn't.  He asked me to look after Buffy because he wasn't coming back."

Tara spoke this time, curiosity getting the better of her.  "But, that doesn't make sense.  Why wouldn't he come back?"

Xander decided to be straightforward.  "Because he said wasn't sure if he ever loved her."

The group remained in silence, the news sinking in.  However, the sounds of the crowd in the ballroom coupled with the music covered the sounds of Buffy's tears as she leaned against the column, the realization of Xander's statement breaking her heart.

Although it had been only a day since she found out the dire news, Buffy still kept her promise.  As soon as she had finished her rounds in the cemetery, she stopped by Spike's apartment to water his flowers.  However, standing there in the balcony, surrounded by his garden, Buffy couldn't help buy shed a tear.  The hope that she held had been shattered with only a few mere words.

But, there was the chance that Xander was wrong.  Maybe Spike would come back.  Maybe…

"Get a grip, Buffy."

Buffy sighed as she swiped her cheek with her hand, moving back inside.  She looked around the empty apartment, realizing that Spike would never be in her again.  That he was on the other side of the planet, most likely moving on with his life.  Buffy couldn't understand why she couldn't let go.  He obviously did.  Tears threatened to come once again, but Buffy maintained her composure, making her way to the front door.  She only hoped it would get easier, trying to deal with the pain.  Fortunately, she didn't have to hope.  Because of the voice.

"Losing your touch, Slayer."  Buffy turned around, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her.  She slowly approached the figure standing in front of her, touching his arm.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, luv.  It's me."

Buffy shook her head, still believing her mind was tormenting her.

"God, I must be dreaming."  The sharp pain in her arm signified that she wasn't.  "Oww.  Why'd you pinch me?"

"To prove that you're not dreaming."  Spike looked down at her, a grin on his face.  "But, that doesn't excuse the fact that you didn't realize that there was a potential killer in the same premises as you.

"What, you came back here to kill me?"

Spike chuckled slightly, the smile growing on his face.  "Tried it once.  Couldn't do it."  Buffy smiled back at him, hearing the lightheartedness in his tone.  "Besides, being on this side is a lot more attractive."

"Is it?"  Spike's smile disappeared from his face, a look of confusion on his face.  "Thought you weren't coming back?"

The anger in his voice was subtle, but noticeable nonetheless.  "Xander told you?"

"Not directly, but yeah."

"Buffy, I wasn't sure of my memories at the time."

"So, you're sure you were never in love with me now?"

Spike shook his head as he spoke.  "Remind me to kill Xander when I see him."  Buffy began to turn around, but the arm on her shoulder stopped her.  "Buffy, wait."

"For what?  You made it clear how you feel."  Spike sighed, frustration and worry in his voice.

"God, not even an hour and you're already thinking the worst of me."  Buffy hung her head, shame beginning to overcome her.  That was one habit she'd have to get rid of if there was still a chance for the man standing in front of her.  Spike's voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke.  "Why do you think I came back, then?"

"I don't know."  Spike's hand gently cupped her chin, tilting it up slowly toward his gaze.  Buffy realized why he had come back once she looked into his eyes.  But, Spike vocalized his sentiment either way.

"I came back for you."

Buffy gently smiled upon hearing those words.  The fact that the emotion behind the words was sincere made her smile even more.

"Is that a fact?"

"Yeah, it is."

Buffy moved closer to Spike, her hand gently encircling his.  This time, Spike made no motion to pull away.  Instead, he tenderly squeezed back, a soft smile on his face.  Buffy leaned forward, about to kiss the man she had missed for what felt like an eternity.  But, Spike pulled back, confusing Buffy even more.

"What is it?"

Spike tenderly caressed Buffy's cheek with his fingers, a frown on his face.  "I need time."

"Time?"  Buffy didn't really understand the statement.  "Time for what?"

"To do this right."  Buffy looked at him, puzzlement on her face, as Spike continued.  "We did this the wrong way last time.  We went too fast.  I mean, I've seen you naked, but I have no idea what your favorite food is.  What your favorite color is.  Hell, what type of music you like."  Spike leaned forward, resting his forehead against Buffy's.  "This time, I want this to be perfect."

Buffy smiled at his words.  "Okay.  I'll give you all the time you need.  On one condition."

"What's that, luv?"

Buffy leaned back, looking into Spike's eyes.  "Promise me you won't leave me again."

Spike smiled, moved at the words just spoken to him.  He leaned forward, gently placing a kiss on Buffy's forehead, whispering against her hair.  "I promise."

"Good."  Buffy backed away from their embrace, slowly moving toward the door.  "Well, you should get settled back in.  I'll see you later, okay."  As Buffy began to move, Spike turned her around again, this time with more urgency.

"Just because I want to take it slow doesn't mean I haven't been dying to kiss you since I stepped foot on U.S. soil."  Before Buffy could respond, Spike's lips gently covered hers, his hand cupping the side of her face as he did so.  After a moment that seemed foreign yet all so familiar, Spike pulled away, both breathing hard.  "I missed you."

Buffy replied in kind.  "I missed you too."  Buffy's lips fell on Spike's once again, thanking whoever was watching over her for giving her a second chance with the man in her arms.

The man stood near the gate to Spike's apartment complex, looking up to the door marked number 220.  As he adjusted his hat, another individual stepped behind him.  While the act would have scared a normal person, this wasn't the case for the man standing by the gate.  Instead, he responded with a greeting.

"Hello, Gabriel."

"Whistler."

Both now looked up at the apartment, knowing what was next.  Gabriel made no motion, still standing behind Whistler.  "You know, this wasn't supposed to happen."

"Yeah, I know.  But, who could have foreseen the Key's interference."

Gabriel moved his hands into his coat pockets, the wind now blowing the tail in the gust.  "You really think they'll be able to stop what's coming?"

Whistler turned around, facing the individual that towered over him.  "They have to.  If not, Dante's going to get his wish.  And, you know what will happen if he does."

Gabriel quietly growled under his breath, speaking in frustration.  "All this for a woman.  I don't get it."

"You would if you ever loved someone, Gabriel."  Gabriel dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand, Whistler continuing.  "Where's Haruna?"

"She surfaced somewhere close.  Maybe San Francisco or Los Angeles.  Couldn't really tell with the phalanx on our tails."

Whistler nodded, a frown on his face.  "We need to find her to figure out our next step."

Gabriel voiced his agreement.  "And soon.  From what I've been sensing, Dante's already here."

The news threw Whistler for a loop, he almost doing a double take at the information.  "How?  I didn't feel any indication."

Gabriel let out a slight chuckle, the wind subsiding.  "You're only a demon.  I'm closer to Dante's kind."

Whistler nodded, understanding the man's words.  "Well, anyway.  We should find Haruna."

Gabriel nodded as he began to walk away from the apartment complex.  Whistler looked back at the door numbered 220, a sigh escaping his lips as he spoke.  "Hope you're ready, Slayer.  Because you're about to find out what true loss is."  With that, he disappeared into the night.

Ray Crichton had sent a crew of men to check out the disturbance on the field.  Ever since that night when he was checking his books, the flow from the field had been abnormal.  Almost like the pipes were damaged.  However, when the men hadn't reported back the next day, Ray began to worry.  The field was already losing money, and to lose a crew on top of that was the last straw.

So, Ray decided what the hell and did something he hadn't done in a long time.  He actually went out to the site to see what was going on.  As the jeep pulled up to the approximate location of the abnormality, Ray's eyes widened in horror upon the sight in front of him.

He now knew why his men hadn't radioed back.  Because there bodies were strewn about the field, their corpses horribly mutilated.  Ray pulled out the revolver from the dash, cautiously walking through the field of bodies, looking for the cause of his men's deaths.  While common sense would have told him to run back to the office and call for help, the fact that the field was losing money was more than enough to make Ray disregard the evident danger around him.

A sound from his side startled Ray, making him squeeze the trigger, a bullet impacting against the ground.  Ray took a deep breath upon seeing the armadillo scurrying away from the scene.  However, the next sound didn't sound like an armadillo.  As Ray turned around, his vision was blinded by the harsh glow even though the sun was fully out.

"Who…who's there?"  To say Ray was frightened was an understatement.

"Where am I?"

The voice sounded unearthly, as though it was reverberating in Ray's head instead of traveling through the air to reach his ears.

"Did…did you kill my men?"

The answer was a succinct one.  "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because they attacked me.  All I wanted to know was where I am."

Ray began to back up, the gun held forward toward the harsh glow moving in his direction.  Ray thought his eyes were playing tricks on him because he could have sworn he saw a silhouette of a body within the light.

"You're…you're in Austin.  Austin, Texas."

The figure's glow began to subside, Ray's eyes not deceiving him initially.  From the light emerged a man with long silver hair, a solitary overthrow on his person.  Almost like a poncho.  The man began to move toward Ray, Ray's fear overcoming him.  Without thinking, Ray squeezed the trigger again.  And again.  And again.  When the click of the chamber resonated in the air, Ray dropped the gun, realizing that the man was still standing, a look of disinterest on his face.

"Violent race.  And, to think, I originally had qualms about exterminating your kind."

Ray continued to back away from the man, his foot stumbling against one of the bodies, Ray falling to his knees.  The man moved in front of him, Ray noticing that his hands were now covered in the same light the man was once blanketed with earlier.

"Please…please."  The words came from Ray's lips, tinted with fear and sorrow.  "I…I have a family.  Two boys."

The man gave Ray a gentle smile, indicating to Ray that his plea was considered.  Ray began to let out a sigh of relief, but before he could, the man's hand flew across Ray's view, Ray trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"They're better off without you."

Little did Ray Crichton know, those would be the last words he would hear as the man looked down at him, Ray's head falling from his neck onto the ground.  The man began walking away from the carnage, his direction westward.  He never looked back as he spoke to no one in particular.

"I'm coming, Haruna.  Heaven nor Hell will stop me.  This I promise."

_Fin_

_12/9/01 – 5/7/02_


End file.
